Issue Two by Brio Pop Magazine

POP

Brio February 2014

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Drawing by Haley Danzig

The Lust Issue Brio Pop

February, 2014

Letter from the Editor Lust is the theme of the magazine this month, so, naturally, I will now pretend to have had several sordid romantic affairs in an attempt to better understand our topic. With a notebook, a pen and more minutes than I care to admit, I dreamt up a story to experiment through fiction in the name of discovering what is both beautiful and tragic about lust. Wanting provides the desire for sometimes misdirected and always remembered wind in our sails. Why would one want such potential misdirection? Let me draw the curtain and hand you my binoculars. I have chosen my favorite fiction to share with you my attempt at discovery. Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s say I was sitting in the sunny hall with European Sculptures in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She worked there as a conservator. I caught her eye when I reached for my shirt pocket, unwrapped a piece of gum from earlier that day, and recommenced chewing. My passion for preservation of great things was apparent. We spent afternoons retouching graffiti. We dumpster dived at art schools for discarded works. In the evenings we wrote down our wittiest quips from earlier in the day for revisiting at the following lunchtime. We knew nothing of each other. Not really anyhow. And so, seemingly before our day had begun, it also rapidly came to an end. A strange twist, I thought, considering that she attempted to save most everything she had a passing fancy for. Months later, as we roll out this lustful issue of Brio Pop, I expect I might recall some passion or inspiration that was our notebook lined love. As I mentioned previously, this was only my attempt to understand our topic. Please join me in this quest to remember, to forget, and to remember again later with haunting inaccuracy. Welcome to the lust issue. If you have any insights, I can be found admiring the sculptures at the Met as the sun sets through the windows, pacing the halls of the museum. Grazing my hand against the rails. Loren BerĂ

Photograph by Alex Feld

Brio Pop Executive Team

Editor In Chief Creative Director Layout Designer & Editor Editor

Loren Berí Paul Wheatley Claire Mirocha

Contributing Writers Claire Mirocha Vanessa Thill Loren Berí Alex Ariff Ariel Barnes Ike Holter Gili Karev Padraic O’Meara Andreea Drogeanu Maddy Kirshoff Photography by Gili Karev, Alex Feld, Jacqueline Silberbush, Paul Wheatley, Claire Mirocha, Ariel Barnes & Vanessa Thill Artwork by S.B. Kosinski, David Mitchell Aronson, Haley Danzig, & Paul Wheatley

Brio Pop

February, 2014

BRIO POP Feb. 2014

LUST

Cover Photography by Jacqueline Silberbush

Trip to the Museum Vanessa Thill 10

Lust in American Cinema Gili Karev 40

Letter From the Editor 4

Use Your Hands Maddy Kirshoff & Paul Wheatley

Mayor of Zombieville Alex Ariff 22

The Worst Sex Scene in the History of Ever Ike Holter 30

Sex & the Female Form Padraic O’Meara 44

333 22 1 Claire Mirocha 6

Odetta Loren Berí 20

Playing Along with Paul Rome Ariel Barnes 26

Watch this 42

Feeding That Illusion Andreea Drogeanu 50 Brio Pop

February, 2014

333

2 2 by Claire Mirocha

Last night, in my last dream, I closely studied a two-room exhibition of paintings. It was a cliché white box gallery space, save perhaps for its lack of an exit. First a small antechamber, with maybe 4 works hung, two on each opposite wall. This gave way to the main room, and there were 6 more works, all the same size as each other and as those is the previous room. Big, colorful abstractions, they both mocked and made use of figure drawing techniques and the ease of linemaking that separates the giants from the homuncules. Some paintings were stark and simple, but cartoon faces burst out of their interstices like gargoyles. One of the paintings was an enormous mirror, of the sort you might see in a dive bar bathroom or a particularly underfunded rest stop, brushed steel that seems to have been breathed upon for decades, each scourge-infested breath forming a new layer over the last one. They seem primarily meant to give a reassurance of one’s physical presence, while losing all sense of particularizing details, but here it was the paintings that were re-embodied in the scratched grey surface.

Photo of 321 gallary space taken by Claire Mirocha

This dream came directly after my visit to 321 Gallery in Brooklyn’s Clinton Hill. Part home, mostly gallery, the space recently hosted the opening of the group show INAUGURAL. This may be a reference to the gallery having recently reopened its doors, but it’s also a very hopeful way of framing what might otherwise be a disorienting mixture of media and styles into a graceful commencement, some sort of coming-of-age ceremony for young Brooklyn artists (which, according to the manic faux-fashion showcase video by Rios and Fields shown in the living room, must certainly be a sweet sixteen). The show includes 18 artists, selected in groups of 6 by the show’s three organizers. Almost every artist comes from a different place, whether materially, educationally or geographically.

Jake Borndal’s “Not Clearly Tide (light magenta)” is a cast aluminum sculpture hanging from an elevated Plexiglas beam, its pink inkjet coating spread skin-like over its surface, giving it the appearance of a finger elongated and bent out of all proportion. Nearby, an untitled image by Cait Carouge reads as another digital photomontage, a post-Internet, post-anything scene recounting the terrors of domesticity and false naturalism. However, her work is actually an unmanipulated, straight photograph, an astounding

of the gold objects from their stands forces the viewer to imagine some private, unseen hiding place. And then there are two works by Nathaniel de Large: one is difficult to see at first, an oversized plastic snail cut in half which hugs two opposite sides of the room, about 10 feet apart. In between the two halves is “Bean Duck”, a mallard constructed from sunflower seeds, peas, and lentils, which sits on a bed of brown-shelled eggs filled with dried beans. At the show’s opening, the artist added water to the beans, which expanded until the eggs hatched, opening their contents onto the floor. A show like this is difficult to characterize, which I think was its purpose all along. Its diagram, if I was for some reason forced to make such a diagram, would be a phylogenetic tree with everything cut off except its tips, 18 pinpoints split from their evolutionary roots but not yet with branches of their own. In a messier analogy, the show did what all productive contemporary ones must: act as a scratched, foggy grey mirror of the current moment of artistic production.

feat that defies any sense of scale or spatiality the viewer is undoubtedly grasping for. Be prepared for a double take, and then a triple, and so on.

I bounced a dodgeball around the gallery like it was a racquetball court, trying to hit the paintings at their most sensitive points and savoring the off-key smacking sound those rubber balls make when they’re fully inflated. Their trajectory never seemed to satisfy me, although it came close a few times. I walked back into the antechamber, remembered the painting to the left of the doorway, loudly proclaimed, “Ah! Maybe THIS one is the best,” and felt finished.

Across the room, Daniel Terna’s “Blue Necks” is a still life that similarly transcends scale, though this photograph is much quieter. Terna has created a series of works based on jewelry storeowners’ practice of removing valuables from window displays during Jewish 321 Gallery is located at 321 Washington holidays. For its relatively small size, Avenue in Brooklyn, and is open by the sense of distance the photo appointment. implies is considerable – the divorce Brio Pop

February, 2014

THE MUSEUM Art by S.B. Kosinski

by Vanessa Thill

Brio Pop

February, 2014

A Reckless Review of Mike Kelley at MoMA PS1

TRIP

Art by S.B. Kosinski. Photograph taken by Vanessa Thill

G Train, Broadway stop: 40 sixth-graders in hats with pompoms storm the train, Hollister and cheddar Fritos, Arizona Iced Tea. I discreetly pause my own afternoon snack… These mushrooms are at least 8 months old, and so crispy. I set out this morning with the intention of hallucinating at MoMA PS1 on the second to last Sunday of the Mike Kelley show. This exhibit takes over every possible gallery space in the museum, from the upper offices, to the lower cinema and the boiler room—the first time PS1 has dedicated every room to one show. What’s more, Mike Kelley, only about 50 years old, committed suicide in early 2013, after involvement with planning this show.

How to prepare for such an outing? On my way to the train, a huge tag covers the wall above the liquor store: YOU GO GIRL. Nearly at the museum, feeling calm. Had spent the morning untying knots I had dunked in fabric dye the night before, threading the stained string around a splintering box top. Got into PS1 free with my expired school ID. The BMW tent in the courtyard is pitch-ass black and Day is Done is playing projected on an IMAX-type screen. The characters and settings are sourced from high school yearbook photos of plays and dance performances. Three girls with bright white geisha-style make up and leotards are dancing through the school hallways. Chugga chugga chugga with a techno beat. Interrupted suddenly by a red devil stand-up, telling about a bride who takes out her teeth, eyes, hair, breasts, legs. The coat check is fine. So far, so good. But starting to feel tightness in chest. Starting in the basement, where a shrill wailing is playing on repeat, and a sort of chuckling. The carpet’s red is more what interests me, with its evenly vacuumed rows that spread out like a chain reaction. A huge black fist rising from a totally encompassing red field, with this wailing, always this constant chuckling. The grooves multiply, or more like, magnify, to reveal deeper rows, into a crowd of thousands. This diorama is working well. The gallery attendant in the corner standing guard hears these horrible sounds in his sleep.

In the cinema, Banana Man is playing. This film is hilarious and I am laughing aloud. But parts of it are deeply disturbing. Ticking, a dog (played by Kelley), thinks it’s pregnant; its children are squeaky toys. She lies on top of them, “Oh am I hurting you, and they would cry too, a circle of cryiiing.” The mother is soft, made of different materials, which is more mother-like? The most pitiful thing in the world: Guernica as performed by two moaning dirty sock puppets. I don’t need anyone anymore, I don’t even need the front two legs of a chair. The woman sitting in front of me in the theater has a perfectly spherical ball of hair, stationary planet. A Kappa, a hairless monkey-like creature from Japan with a flat dish on his head that must be filled with water for him to have his powers. The video cuts to a man demonstrating a Japanese scroll with his 3 fingers – rips it? A Kappa paw looks like a chicken foot. His desire for blood leads him to occasionally attack ladies. He lies in wait below outhouses, deathly afraid of shiny objects. He feeds on blood through the rectum, what’s more. But he’s a terribly awkward dancer. And his desire to join society and continuous failure to do so is a source of much humor. “I can see that your mind is a mess! Because it leaked all out onto your exterior!”

Brio Pop

February, 2014

room, very bright, very quiet, whispering, scuffling. I have a pesto sandwich in my bag! It reeks of garlic! And everyone thinks I’m writing something intelligent and smell like fuckin roses.

Uh oh: Oedipal. That sloppy cunt bitch mother + ex-wife. Woah. Tenderbutton, pink, maroon, black. Chilling champagne in a paint bucket. “How did I get here? …I lived in the park…” Camera is between them, evil suit. “You twist like a knife”—he is bending and blurring—“I twist a cock in your ass and you purr like a kitten”.

The poster to the left.

There’s a miniature stage set inside the stove. “Soothing, limitless, quiet expanse of outer space; Floating in a warm embalming ocean.” “No! It’s a void, black hole! It is the oven who killed the Jews! Dead orifice! Sylvia Plath!” Alright. Bell Jars. The Kandors. A series based on a magical city growing inside a bottle from Superman. I approach the walnut column, lit from below, gem color. The noise in here: tinkling like a plastic battery and swirling tubes of light. Melted plastics, the people that stay in this room all day this guy is trying to see what I’m writing

[author’s note: This is when I discover I am not safe from reality.] Upstairs, I walk in and across the table I lock eyes with Alon Sicherman [a man the author met online but never truly in person] across the Educational Complex. There is a low buzz in here, we have escaped the shrill screaming for now. So. Climate controlled

I’m sorry. What else can I say. I know these are only words and cannot make up for the immeasurable suffering that I have heaped upon this world since the day I was born…. I was putting a single honey bee into a small plastic pill container. Now, I am dropping this bottle into a pit being filled with wet cement, And now I watch as this delicate being is swallowed up by tons of hungry concrete. This pit being filled with concrete, was the foundation for a new section being added-on to the house I grew up in. And how my heart sank as I realized I had just completed an evil and irreversible act. The bee was now permanently encased in the ground, the very ground on which I spent every one of my days. This is the key to this show and for me, to Mike Kelley as an artist. However, the total sadonism, cruelty, and sheer claustrophobic terror that this story invokes is not something I want to dwell on, while hallucinating, in a silent institutional room. This is the scene I was warned about by more logical people. A museum is not exactly a forgiving place for transgressive behavior. REMAIN CALM: There are mutilated stuffed animals everywhere. Oh god I am still in the stuffed animal. brain cartoons. Pink snake with fuzzy sideburns. Banana links, eviscerated innards-snake.

I am scared of the one with This is the one that will swallow you OH , thi . …suddenly it’s dark out. Water fountain—out of order. Tiny rooms—gallery guards are your worst enemy here!!!!! Trying to take a picture of Maria, the two panels that keep flipping back in forth, one with arms raised, one folded. They switch so quickly back forth eyes can barely focus on them. But I think I got one. All the screens in here are double sided. Ok holy shit—in the center of the room Wait, the fucking train video trip— triple threat, all female daisy-chain, milk train’s comin’ with a load of cream, party train—chugga chugga /~/~/~/~/ The glued-together buttons are a no. Back to the lobby, run into the co-owner of a well-known gallery in Brooklyn and managed to lie low, until he started asking me how I’ve been the past few months (since Miami)… had to escape I am telling this to a purple hanging stuffed animal orb—right at eye-level and a weird truly medium size. 5:54pm. Golden boiler room Crazy coral reef in a glass jar Light drips from the ceiling I brought a string to try to untie the courtyard air bitingly cold BP

Artwork (opposite, next four pages) by David Mitchell Aronson

I am wearing a blazer right now for this very fucked up reason… seems less suspicious. No one will notice a girl with a notebook and blazer calmly melting her face on some quality artworks.

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Odetta by Loren BerĂ

Photograph by Anna Bonnet

Odetta Hartman left New York this past September to find out what Nashville might teach her for a few months. A sort of a semester abroad. The first girl she met had a room opening in her house for 275 dollars per month. “I said, ‘I’ll take it!’ And later it became 250. We had a friend staying on the couch.” Hartman decorated her small room up to snuff, and prepared herself for each day by committing to yoga each morning by nine o’clock. Mixed in with her regimen towards the end of the hour and a half was practicing a clawhammer banjo technique. “I had these charts pinned up on my wall and I would just stand playing them forever.” Hartman explained that while in New York it’s as though she’s “the bluegrass girl”, but that in Nashville she was learning from those she believes truly know bluegrass. “Everyone there is so casual, about playing music, about hanging out, and then you realize you’re playing with grammy nominated folks and people known all over for what they do.” Part of the culture surrounding bluegrass and folk music is the feeling of inclusion, the ‘join us’ mentality. This is some of what Hartman misses now that she is back in New York. It is also evident that this sense of inclusivity is part of what Odetta brought back with her, or perhaps what she has possessed all along. In the past she has organized concerts in places like Housing Works’ SoHo location, managing to bring together terrific musicians with varying backgrounds. Odetta is also inclusive with regards to the sorts of soundscapes now entering her music. Currently playing without a band, she has been experimenting with ways to make her solo performance interesting without all of the additional instruments. Odetta is now finding ways to incorporate electronic elements into her music, which is founded in folk traditions. The banjo playing songstress’ boyfriend, Jack, is a DJ. His knowledge of music software Ableton, among other electronic tools, has proved surprisingly useful in this context. Hartman has begun to experiment with things like sampling sounds in nature to create rhythms, or triggering effects with vocal cues. This experimentation is leading Odetta to a full length album on which she plays all of the instruments, horns and all. Field recordings and new technologies are making their way into the fold as Hartman’s

“Appalachian blood”-her mother is from West Virginia-still drives the writing. Hartman’s most recent EP, ‘Bark’, was recorded at Mama Coco’s Funky Kitchen, a place she speaks of fondly and admires. She explained that the engineer and founder of the studio, Oliver Ignatius, has done a terrific job of creating a community of artists who have recorded there. What began with several of his friends’ bands, sprawled out into a much bigger conglomeration of artists. This friendly atmosphere no doubt contributed to the New Orleans colored horn arrangements and overall character of ‘Bark’. On the first recording of Odetta’s next project she said she began with an old wives’ tale of New Mexico in a song called “Tap Tap”. The story goes that a woman has been playing the slot machines in a casino all night long and has not won a single time. A mysterious fellow walks up to her and asks if he can give it a whirl. At his very first attempt he wins the jackpot and leaves to let the woman collect the prize. Afterwards she goes out to the parking lot to find him, only to notice he has hooves. She has been swooning over the devil. Hartman uses sounds from a pepper grinder and makes use of pitched down vocals to set the scene. This kind of storytelling is found in her other work as well, like in the song “Old Misery”, in which someone shoots their own lover before turning their gun on themselves. “I don’t even consciously know where it came from. I wasn’t like, I’m going to sit down and write a murder ballad.” While continuing a tradition of folk music and storytelling, Odetta Hartman is able to express sentiments joyous and tragic with a fiery sincerity in the power of her voice. This talent combines with her stage presence to lure audiences into forgetting their respective stories for a time and listen to hers. Lustful of new experience, Odetta says that music helps her to find the experience she yearns for, “in the space of a song, as well as in traveling.” At the heart of what Hartman does, though, is the forming of community here at home in New York. “If I had a personal mission statement-I love bringing people together.” BP

Brio Pop

February, 2014

the Mayor of

Zombieville by Alex Ariff

Art by S.B. Kosinski

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Adam Schatz is a multi-instrumentalist. He plays in 6 bands, most recently the theatrical rockpop band Man Man. Schatz also runs/founded Search and Restore, a non-profit dedicated to supporting the new jazz and improvised music community. BP: The theme for this edition of Brio Pop is lust. How do you define lust in terms of your craft? AS: Reading that word in writing seems to stir something inside me, how much I really don’t care for it. Lust. Lately I’ve realized how much I hate when someone refers to drinks as “libations.” I don’t know why “lust” feels the same way but it kind of does. It feels a bit out dated, like it was a word invented for beach-friendly romance novels. I don’t think I think in terms of that word ever in my life. I think about “want” which seems like a more realistic expansion of lust. Want is everything, it pretty much drives every human decision we make throughout the day. Which is kind of exciting if you think about it. I don’t really think about it. But you’re asking so I’m answering. What do I want, what do I strive for? To form a connection between the listener and myself and my group, whatever the group may be. To open doors and provide for a creation of a united feeling that no one can get alone. I want to create the anti-alone. I want that. With Man Man, I would watch the band on stage as a kid and dream of being in the group, so it’s damn cool to be in it now. But did I lust after being a part of the group? That sort of doesn’t feel like the proper use of the word lust, unless I was trying to really fuck everyone in the band, which I don’t think I am. The same that a beer you give your friend is a beer, not a libation. BP: On a recent tour with Man Man, you reflected, “The bigger the space, the grander I end up performing, trying to play to the back of the room.” Do you feel like you’ve been preparing for these moments? AS: My approach to performing on stage has been a work in progress since the first time I ever performed on stage. I was in a talent show in the 4th grade,

played in bands at summer camp, was in two musicals in middle school. In 8th grade I played my first rock show singing in a band and my leg shook the whole time. Throughout high school I grew into a performer, knowing that how you carry yourself on stage can emphasize what the music is trying to do. It’s part of the package. And I don’t know how I knew that. I liked Queen from a very young age and Freddy’s the king of that, but I can’t even tell you if I saw any footage of Queen live when I was younger, I must have just known. And the bigger the stage, the bigger you go, because you want to hit that one dude, in the way way back. But I’ve also really learned the power of being still, then the movement takes more weight with it when it happens. I like a personality when you perform is exactly that, a personality, and it’s different for every person. But it can be cultivated and tweaked and grown to match what you’re doing. With Man Man, sometimes I have license to just flip out. I love flipping out. Making faces and singing high and slamming a hubcap or a marimba or a guitar or a saxophone in a very physical way. But I also know when I can catch my breath because all eyes might be on our lead singer at moments of the set. He (Ryan) is relentless on stage, really giving it his all and he has his own dramatics, but also we have a few songs in the middle of the set where he’s not jumping around. It’s probably a lifesaver in the long run. BP: How did the folks at Man Man approach you to join the group? AS: I opened a show for Man Man in summer 2012 in Brooklyn and met the guys for a second then. A few months later I played in Philadelphia with Those Darlins, and Ryan from Man Man was there and let me know that a few guys had just left the band and asked what instruments I played. I told him the ones

I could play well and lied about a few others, then went to Philly a month or so later and spent 5 or 6 hours playing with him and Chris (the drummer), a pretty informal audition, and was in the band. Shortly after the audition, we went into the studio, so I had to power-learn all of the new material. I wrote the opening horn piece on the new record, On Oni Pond. I wrote a ton of potential horn parts for the record and that was one of the ones that stuck. It’s pretty satisfying to have it kick off the album. I played sax on a bunch of the songs, arranged horns for a horn section for some others, and did a bit of keys and singing as well. I was only able to get to the studio for 4 days out of the three weeks we recorded, so it’s amazing anything I did stayed on the record. But I was able to bring a lot of my own style to the table, which was nice, especially the octave / delayed saxophone sound that I use a lot in my own improvised music. The album was recorded and produced by Mike Mogis in his studio in Omaha, Nebraska. We slept in a house connected to the studio and approached things at a pretty leisurely pace, for what I was used to anyways, I’m used to making an album in three days. We just tried ideas on every song, Mogis is a strong producer; he’s able to guide performances with suggestions but not get in the way. His personal touch can really be heard on the end result. BP: CNN’s Anderson Cooper and Wolf Blizter featured Man Man regarding the tune “End Boss.” What was the band’s reaction? AS: We all flipped out. The first Anderson Cooper piece aired on one of the first nights of our album release tour last September and we watched it and marveled at how silly it all was. Wolf ’s reaction was even wilder. We still haven’t met either of them, but we will, we must. BP: Give us the brief history and update on your band Landlady. AS: Landlady started in 2010. Before then, I was coleading the incredibly weird and somewhat popular Previously On Lost band. So after 2 years of writing songs about television I was ready to get back into personal songwriting, and wrote 10 or so songs with a group of friends in mind to perform it. We rehearsed, I knew I wanted two drummers and it took work to figure out how that would work with the music but

the result was what I truly believe is one of the most impressive and dynamic live shows I’ve been a part of. Landlady’s been going steadily since then, a few members have changed over, I recorded and selfreleased our debut album and a follow-up single. In the past 6 months we recorded our next record and I’ve found a manager and a label that I’m incredibly excited about, two things I’ve been in search of since my first band in 2002. Pay attention, I suppose! BP: You recently performed pieces by Randy Newman during a residency at the Manhattan Inn. What is it about Randy Newman? AS: He’s the best. His songs always nail the human condition and can still feel personal even though he’s often singing from the perspective of someone else. He can write the same song 100 times and you’ll still want to listen to it. I like his voice. I like all of it. My favorite record though is Nilsson Sings Newman, Harry Nilsson singing Randy Newman songs with Randy Newman on piano. BP: There have been discussions lately about NYC’s downward slope in terms of finances inhibiting the artistic communities—Moby and David Byrne have chimed in. Although you weren’t in NYC in the 80s or 90s, what thoughts do you have on the city’s transition? AS: New York City’s always been tumultuous and modular. It’s gotten very expensive and a lot of artists I think are trapped, feeling it’s the only place worth living and working but not knowing how that can really work. I just finished an amazing book called “Love Goes To Buildings On Fire” by music journalist Will Hermes, all about music in New York City from 1973-1978. Each chapter focuses on a year and everything that happened during it, from Phillip Glass to Kool Herc to Rashied Ali to Bruce Springsteen to Television to Disco to Salsa to NYC being three billion dollars in debt to the Son Of Sam murders. New York City’s always been the best, and it has always been fucked. You get a lot out of living here, and it takes a lot from you. And if you don’t like it, move. BP

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Playing Along With Paul Rome By Ariel Barnes

met Paul Rome around noon at Heavy Woods, a local bar in Bushwick. I spotted him instantly from the amount of research I had done on him, which could have easily been interpreted as borderline stalking. Rome has completed an impressive amount of work through film, audio, stage and now in print thanks to the publishing house, Rare Bird Books. I found him at the bar and introduced myself. He reciprocated with a smile, even after a shift that probably started before the sun came up. He manages the Wyckoff Starr, a coffee shop next door. This is my first impression of the author who “feels very fortunate” with the publication of his novel, We All Sleep in the Same Room.

Photograph by Alex Feld

Rome’s novel is about a man and his inner conflict. The protagonist, Tom Claughlin, is a lawyer, father, husband and, with the best of intentions, has an insatiable lust for trouble. Between Tom’s battle with alcohol, filling the void with his wife, disturbing dreams and curiosity for a new assistant, he is trying to address the inevitable dissatisfaction one can feel after obtaining the things we desire—the fearful question of “now what?” Rome explains this unsettling and very real aspect of happiness throughout his work. “Happiness is also like a myth,” he said. “The process of creating is supposed to make you happy. But then there’s this guilt that I sometimes experience. In The Game,” a story Rome had produced into film and audio, “[the main character] is with good friends, but he comes off as sort of a jerk for not being happy. In certain contexts, happiness, or at least the portrayal of it, becomes an obligation. And if you don’t play your part, it rubs a lot of people the wrong way. It’s something I like to explore when I start writing for whatever reason.”

Rome’s audio work on SoundCloud, The You Trilogy, is a spectacular trance of beats mixed with his narration of a three-part act about a man and his struggle with the expectations of others as well as himself. Rome said he would like to return to using audio. “The medium that was influential to me a lot was radio even though nothing I’ve done has actually appeared on radio,” said Rome. “I’m really into this artist named Joe Frank out of California. He does these really surreal shows with music and that was the influence for telling stories over music. It sort of puts you in this hypnotic place. I have NPR on a lot at home and he came on one Sunday night at 11. The first time I heard his voice I was transfixed. I became interested in the way people tell stories. I like the idea of having a radio program at some point, but I’d like to have different voices than just me. I would love to further explore film as well.” Rome has collaborated with filmmaker Natalia Leite to turn the first act of his audio trilogy, The Game, to film. Rome spoke highly of Leite saying, “She’s a bad ass. She’s doing a show on VICE right now called Every Woman. She and her friend are traveling around doing stereotypical women’s jobs. They went to a really seedy strip club out in New Mexico and became strippers. She’s very bold.” Besides Leite, Rome has worked with Roarke Menzies, who Rome calls his best friend. “I often have one really close male friend in my life and for a number of years it’s been Roarke. We’ve collaborated on a lot of projects now. He recorded The You Trilogy, composed music and performed in a show we did together called Calypso, put together my website and he edited the novel. He’s been a really big influence and

friend. A lot of people talk about the importance of having people read your work. I would amend that by saying having smart people read your work, people you trust or people’s opinions you like. If [Roarke] says this joke is stupid, or this joke is funny but it’s distracting from what you’re trying to say, I’ll listen to him.” Many of Rome’s influences are actually good friends. “One of my best friends from childhood, Adam Wilson, is coming out with his second book [What’s Important Is Feeling (Harper Perennial)], and we’re going to do a reading together at Harvard Book Store in Boston,” said Rome. “Adam as a friend is a really big influence on me. Since the age of about thirteen he’s been telling me what to read and I listen to him. He’s just one of those extremely well-read people. I’m also going to read with Adelle Waldman, who wrote this terrific book, The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. She wrote it from a guy’s perspective and she nails it. It’s both hilarious and sad. I’m really excited to read with both of them.” “I always had it in the back of my head,” said Rome about writing being more than just a college course or hobby. “I took one writing program the summer after college and had this wonderful teacher named Howard Norman, who’s an accomplished novelist, and he pulled me in. He often writes about Nova Scotia and all these wonderfully strange, isolated people. It was one of those ‘right place at the right time’ kind of things. He would have meetings with his students and he invited me down into his office one day and said, ‘if you want this, you can do it. I don’t say this to everyone.’ He told me I have what it takes to be writer.”

Brio Pop

February, 2014

ends on the highway. New York is so rich, though, in part because of all the literature and movies that have come from it. There are layers upon layers and meaning in every corner. You’ve got this public imagination, you’ve got the sense of history and then each person, each relationship has their own personal and private histories—you know, the spot where you first kissed this girl or found out this horrible news. I like it when a place becomes viewed with layers of history and feelings.” I can only imagine that the process of getting a fictional book published for the first time is something similar to the struggle of Sisyphus. Rome expanded on the final product that is his novel. “You realize you have to promote it so much and live with it forever that you better feel good about it. There are one or two lines that I left in there that make me squirm. In general, I feel really good about it. I like that it’s short. It’s something you can carry with you that you can finish. A lot of people have been reading it in one or two sittings. It’s almost disturbing—five years writing and then you read it in two hours, but it’s wonderful, you know? I remember all the times I’ve stayed up late to finish a book.” In addition to polishing up a handful of short stories, Rome is planning his next live show in collaboration with Roarke Menzies, premiering later this year. The two are also planning an audio version of Calypso. Rome says he does want to write another novel, perhaps a psychological

thriller or something involving an architect. “Tonight I’m going to the PEN American new members party,” said Rome PEN America is an organization of writers and advocates of free speech. He showed me a photo of last year’s party: a crowded gallery and one person in the corner standing apart from the mingling and elbow-rubbing. “Is that you?” I asked. “It’s fucking me!” he said. “I thought it was so symbolic of this new writer looking out at the literary world. I think this year I’ll know more people. That was last year.” Rome was correct. This year he socialized with many new members, including actor BJ Novak, who complimented Rome on the cover of We All Sleep in the Same Room, designed by Ben Lehn, another friend of Rome. Before our interview ended we agreed that the Maria Hernandez Park, only a block down the street from where I had interviewed him, would be a good place to take his photograph. I asked if he had anything to do at the moment in case he had somewhere to be, to which he responded, “going on a walk with you.” BP

Photograph by Ariel Barnes

Rome recently watched Ridley Scott’s Alien for the first time. “It’s fucking phenomenal,” he said. “From the first second, you’re in and it doesn’t let up. The one thing I like about thrillers and well-crafted things is they operate in a realm beyond why and reason. There’s that feeling of realism you don’t question. It’s the craftsmanship that appeals to me.” I asked if he’d be interested in writing any Sci-Fi in the future. “I don’t know how imaginative I am when it comes to what the world is going to be like,” he said. “I barely understand the world right now. I want write stories like Patricia Highsmith who wrote The Talented Mr. Ripley and Strangers on a Train. I love the way her stories are so tense. I’d like to write stories like that, but with prose like Joan Didion. She’s my obsession of the moment.” Rome has set the majority of his work all over New York from Union Square, Times Square, Park Slope, Prospect Heights, Williamsburg, and stops along the L Train—a narrative that is permanently seared into the brain of the constant 8th Avenue or Rockaway Parkway bound traveler. I asked if he would like to write about somewhere outside of New York. “Recently I’ve been working on stories about traveling. I’m intrigued by the transition and journey of getting from one geographic place to another. I’m writing one called Philadelphia, about a spur of the moment day trip from Brooklyn to Philadelphia. The story mostly takes place inside a car and begins and

Brio Pop

February, 2014

The Worst Sex Scene in the history of ever.

Photograph by Jacqueline Silberbush

by Ike Holter

Brio Pop

February, 2014

(Bedroom. Or actually just a mattress with a black sheet under weird lighting in a storefront with 80 seats.) NON-EQUITY ATTRACTIVE and EDGY 20-SOMETHING HOTTIE: Hey. You. Yeah, you. It’s time. Totally time. Time: To Get. It. On. NON-EQUITY SUPER HOT and VIVACIOUS 20-SOMETHING OTHER HOTTIE: Uh, yeah it is though!. It’s like, totally time. Time for you and me. Time for both of us to get it on…. BOTH SEXY ACTORS AT THE SAME TIME: For REAL. Lusty sex scene. The audience stares at their programs and mentally wishes they could die or inflict death on others or teleport back home and hate-watch something where at least the sex is sexy and the actors not this poor and sweaty. Meanwhile, the Stage Manager texts her boyfriend about their sick cat. The cue is missed. The actors freeze, lips together, sweat-dripping, posed in a tacky tableau of Half Humping. The Stage Manager finally looks up.) BORED STAGE MANAGER who DESPERATELY MISSES HER CAT: Oh, crap. This is now, like, twice as awkward as it’s pretending it isn’t. Cue number 42, go. Ӝ There are very, very few things that are less sexy than watching two people making out on-stage. Wait. Three people making out on-stage. Yeah. There you go. Three people making out on stage. That takes the cake. Last summer, there was a hit Chicago play (which I won’t name

here because I have not yet had enough to drink). After scenes of flirting, heavy winking and enough sexy-sassy dialogue to make the pages of Blush magazine turn beet-red, our two leads--both late twenty-something beautiful creatures of extreme fitness and chest-heaving prowess--engage in The Kiss That Is Supposed To Make Everything Right In The History of Ever. Except it didn’t.

(Blackout.) And what happened next titled the Un-Sexy chart into the negative degrees. They began a simulated sex-scene, which had all of the dynamic wonderment of watching two crash-test dummies rock and flop in the back-seat of a pinto before being engulfed by fire. Why is it so hard to make sexy theater actually sexy?

Photograph (following two images) by Jacqueline Silberbush

Movies have it made.

commercial.

Say your two leads get along fine, look great on a poster and dance a sexy tango. When the pivotal love scene comes up and your two actors can’t connect, what do you do?

“Really though? This is doing NOTHING FOR ME RIGHT NOW” We think to ourselves in hushed italics as we ponder his actual sexuality and try not to stare south of his belly button.

Call the best god-damn editor in the country to turn your trainwreck into an MTV-style musicvideo-meltdown of hot-hot-hotheat;

After the flirting, the courting, the scatter-shot back and forth, we’re treated with a real life reanacment of the Ameatuer section of X-Tube, and we all feel more than a little dirty as these poor people then have to fake falling asleep, then quickly get up so they can strike the set and move onto the next scene.

cut from hands to hair to back to butt: show us tiny little cuts slipped in between break-neck choreography, drop in a fish-eye lense, and pump the music up so loud that you’d swear you were there. That’s a movie sex-scene, and it looks better than any actual sex scene you’ve ever taken part of. On the stage, there’s no cutting. Actually, it’s more like watching a single shot documentary: you can’t look away, but ohmygod you really want to PLEASE MAKE IT STOP NOW. The awkward shirt-over-theshoulders pull-off, the weird sound that dry chapped lips make when faking it, and (worst of all) watching any kind of nudity while in the red-hotheat of the moment. It can’t compete with real life, it can’t compete with movie-fakereal life, and hearing someone talk about how hard they are (when you can see that is not the case) makes the entire audience feel like they’re in some creepyscarycool peep show in 1980’s Amsterdam. “I want you so much it makes my heart break.” He says, mouthbreathing harder than Kristen Stewart in a chewing gum

It’s really, really, really creepy. But. The one thing that the stage offers in terms of intimacy (which in unparalleled by any jump-cuts or TV-Ready manipulation) is that simple, hard to replicate, everallusive thing: Actual intimacy. Good stage sex is all about what we don’t see. Or: Good Stage Sex is like Bad Real-Life BlueBalling. In Tennessee Williams “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof ”, Maggie The Cat spends the better part of a half hour wearing a dress-slip and talking about the heat as she fans herself and monologues to a man who will spend most of the play never getting near enough to tour her. It is sexy as hell. The desire of a first date is there, the implication of escalation on the second meet-up, and right when we get to the third hang-out, the “will we or won’t we”, the “reaching for the condom in the back pocket” instance: Blackout. Next scene. We-wantmore.

In film, blue-balling is awful. On stage it is the most important part of the relationship with the audience. The idea of “getting some” inspires the lust; we fill in the rest of the other essential ingredients. Would the musical “Chicago” be sexier if we saw Diva-Dame of damnation Velma Kelly walk in and see her husband and her sister lying in bed in the passionate embrace of “Number 17: The Spread Eagle?” The answer is no, hell no, ohmygodmakeitstop BonerShrinker-Capital of the U.S.A. But the implication of seeing that, and then watching two tight-blacklaced chorus-dancers embracing without penetration in a remix of the actual situation: It’s gutsy, it’s fascinating, it leaves you wanting more, and, most of all, IT IS SEXY AS HELL. Some writers make it so far as the kiss, but if the dialogue leading up to it is strong enough, that’s all you really need. The lip-lock isn’t an exclamation point, it’s a dotdotdot, like in those old 1950’s Romance Novels where two people have a good laugh and touch hands and then the next page someone’s making the bed and someone else is cooking breakfast. If the writing is tight enough, the audience will be full of 100 different un-cut views of the hottest sex scene that happened between a 20 second scene change. They’ll want more, and they won’t get it. And, those poor actors won’t have to trade various diseases back and forth during half-house matinee’s. Nobody’s satisfied. Everybody’s happy. BP Brio Pop

February, 2014

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Brio Pop

February, 2014

lust

in American Cinema by Gili Karev

Cinema has done well to manufacture a modern brand of lust, but like most commercial products, it has been tailored to suit regional tastes and mentalities. One would think that a decade of living in the United States should have provided me with checked insight into the American mindset. But after a week of watching films with the idea of lust in mind, I can say with wavering confidence that American cinema shows us people turned on by a lot of different things - least of which is sex. 40

Photograph (previous page) by Gili Karev

While the American media will be the first to tell you that sex sells, when it comes to cinema, American films are downright prude compared to their European counterparts. Both industries make movies based on the inherent human quality of lust, but Hollywood’s fear of portraying sex for the sake of sex replaces the act with more easily swallowed depictions of violence and greed. Two films in particular that have made it big in the last year of cinema are Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street, and French-Tunisian director Abdellatif Kechiche’s art house film Blue is the Warmest Colour. While perhaps the only apparent similarity between the two films is their considerable length (both running in at a little over three hours), their vast differences do well to highlight cultural relativities of their countries of origin. Richard Brody’s review in the New Yorker sums up the irony of Wolf. “Anyone who needs “The Wolf of Wall Street” to explain that the stock-market fraud and personal irresponsibility it depicts are morally wrong is dead from the neck up; but anyone who can’t take vast pleasure in its depiction of delinquent behavior is dead from the neck down.” Brody essentially justifies the idea that while the audience may appreciate the immoral implications of shameless excess, the more intriguing and entertaining show is that of Jordan Belfort snorting piles of cocaine out of hooker’s derrières. I am saddened to think that some small part of every good American watching the film wishes for a moment that they could be a Jordan Belfort and rake in a million dollars a week. That this lust for money outweighs the residual moral implications, even momentarily, is a product of a longstanding American lust for overabundance, and the medium of cinema allows for an artistic representation of this insatiable greed. Sex, an act deemed uncompromisingly offensive by a fundamentalist belief system in the United States, is only represented inasmuch as it indicates a product of wealth and power - a tactic that, at least in this film, associates it by proxy with nefarious behaviour. At the same time, the winner of this year’s Palme D’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, Blue, a stunning portrayal of a tumultuous and passionate love affair, has been banned in Idaho for lewd sexuality and nudity. Not surprisingly, the American media chose to attack the 10-minute sex scene between the two female protagonists of Blue before acknowledging the devastating love story that gave rise to it. How two women making love garnered more negative attention

than the glorification of excess that predated the financial crisis in America eludes me. If mainstream outlets can use lust to portray the desire to attain a particular form of happiness, how is it that violence, greed and power are more liberally endorsed than sex? Sex in American cinema is a tricky animal. While the country imports plenty of sexuality and nudity filled European films, domestic production has opted for more subtle representations of the most basic human behaviour. Romantic comedies such as Wedding Crashers or even American Pie give the illusion of liberated sexuality by associating it with lighthearted humour and seduction montages of half-naked people falling exhausted onto rumpled sheets. Sex is a prominent element in American films because, as we know, it sells. But the act is rarely presented in the same level of detail as a gruesome murder or drug-filled enterprise as seen in popular tropes of Hollywood action movies. That a film depicting a man murdering his wife is considered more acceptably entertaining than if the same man were to have sex with his wife in similar detail is absurd. How the half a billion dollar a year horror industry can get away with R ratings while the Sundance sweetheart Blue Valentine received an NC-17 rating for a scene involving oral sex proves Hollywood’s same lust for material success as is depicted in their films. Whether we lust after sex, money or power, the essential human passion remains the same. Hollywood unabashedly shows us our deepest desires of power and money, and it does so with a delicious, burning gusto. Both Wolf and Blue are about appetites, and voracious ones at that, but the hunger that each filmmaker chose to focus on indicates a fundamental cultural difference in advocacy and audience. Americans don’t want to be reminded of the banality of eventual love, or the sloppy way two bodies try and fit their bits together the first time they have sex. Who can blame them? We experience all of that on the daily. Hollywood is successful because it sensationalizes the mundane and gives us no-frills entertainment. In Europe, cinema is art first and foremost, and art shows us the struggle of humanity against the odds. Blue is irresistible because it shows us the kind of love story we can all relate to. Sure, it’s also three hours of looking at gorgeous women on a big screen who are sometimes naked. Show me someone who wouldn’t enjoy seeing that. BP Brio Pop

February, 2014

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Brio Pop

February, 2014

e h t d n a Sex

m r o F e l a Fem a conversation with Sarah Baker by Padraic O’Meara

Photograph by Padraic O’Meara

Brio Pop

February, 2014

The Female Form

Sarah Baker

hey Padraic O’Meara

hi there yes lets see if this works Hiu So, hey Sarah, thanks for chatting with me about this stuff on this lovely valentines day morning. you there? Sarah Baker

I’m here! Padraic O’Meara

I know that especially in the US, theres always been a tenuous relationship with the way the naked body, and sexuality is represented in films. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Does it equal a better scene to be more graphic, or does it tell a better story to keep the indication of sexuality more to the land of innuendo? Sarah Baker

I grew up in a classic California hippy setting where nudity was very common place. I have a deep appreciation for the nude form and appreciate it both aesthetically and sexually. I think that it depends on the story that is being told. If you are seeking to turn your audience on, to invite them to imagine themselves in the setting or with the seducer, innuendo really allows for that Padraic O’Meara

So in the way it’s portrayed in cinema today, like in Scorceses Wolf of Wall Street, where it’s basically just tits and ass the whole way through the film, is that sexy even. Or do you feel it kinda cheapens the scene, makes it not seem as special, not as enjoyable?

Great :0 Ok, so I wanted to have a chat with you about sexuality, sensuality and the way it’s portrayed in film these days.

Sarah Baker

When your goal is to tell a story in such a way as to leave little room for the imagination, then being explicit is appropriate

love it

Padraic O’Meara

I love the nude in film, but for me I know that if there is a little mystery, thats what really turns me on. Sarah Baker

agreed. I love action flicks and the absolute blatent use of tits and ass I expect it and appreciate it Padraic O’Meara

Ha, that makes a lot of sense, so youre saying that there was maybe more room for imagination in a more unrevealing cinema?

more, say as a naked video of Scarlet on his computer screen? i felt he was a little pathetic just for knowing what she really looked like, like it made me feel sorry for him in a way, like this cool hot girl was just taking advantage of him really. Sarah Baker

right, and you felt that way because you know how hot and cool she is showing nudity can be a form of giving away of the directors power Padraic O’Meara

totally! Sarah Baker

Sarah Baker

exactly. I have been finding myself in many conversations regarding the movie Her and there has been a lot of feedback on the use of Scarlett Johanssons voice. The use of such a recognizable voice, one that makes us think of her and all her lovely curves, limits how far we allow ourselves to commit to the suri character that is being portrayed. A comment that I really appreciated was that the viewer didn’t like that they knew more about the voice than the male character did Padraic O’Meara

I can agree with that, but by that measure, would it have been better to say have her(Suri) be in the scene

Spike Jonze gave away some of the films power by using the voice of a woman who we all have seen or imagined nude. Padraic O’Meara

So with that in mind, do you think this resurgence of nudity and womens sexuality in film, almost a pornification of pop culture, a good thing for women to be seen in this new light. Taking that a film like her is not the norm. the new norm is to show the naked female form as much as possible! I agree with that for sure, I also felt that here being this sex siren, and the way she does her performance in the film although only through voice, really does fit in quite well with this new crop of overly sexualized films.

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Sarah Baker

I should do this as well? I guess the question is more, is this breeding a safe environment for women to be themselves sexually? Padraic O’Meara

over exposure leads to desensitization. I think that we are leading our audience and ourselves further down a rabbit hole that has very dark twists and turns. If explicitly showing the female body in a pornographic way as the norm, no longer keeping it within the porn and erotic drama context, then we lose the power that the female body holds simply through implication Padraic O’Meara

And so how does this empower or disempower women in society when they start to live in a society desensitized to their naked form and inherrent sexuality? Could it be seen as a good thing, in a way liberating, like a man jogging through a park without his shirt off, is a pleasent site, but not inherrently sexual? Does it take away or give more power to the female form, and in turn to women themselves?

Good question? But then how far does this go? There is one end of the spectrum where a scoiety may want to cover up a woman completely, and call the female form sacred, and the other end where it is completely splayed out across every screen, billboard, street that you can think of. Are we able to draw a line, that is a reasonable one, or do we have to push at the extremes of either end of this spectrum. Sarah Baker

In film there is a place for all extremes. I think that we might be shooting ourselves and maybe even the porn industry in the foot, by bringing more pornography into the general film arena Padraic O’Meara

Sarah Baker

I think of every womans sexuality as a hard won prize in whatever form it takes. A woman that can say that she is comfortable in her body and her sexuality is a rare find. That the bar is being raised by these women on screen, when we (women) are just barely finding our own versions of liberation, I find it stunting to our growth. For myself, I want to be cool, not be a prude, enjoy my sexuality and not be put in a position where I feel like i should go beyond my own boundaries to do so If the new norm is to have a woman and all her glorious mysteries exposed, than am I to think that

So in that sense, does it not take power away from something like the porn industry. The objectificaiton of the female form in general? Does it not in turn empower women and their sexulity to have a whole new norm, from which to base their own compass? More map, but do you feel compelled to explore every corner of it now that you know t exists? Sarah Baker

I don’t think that we should ever try to take power away from the porn industry. Porn is a wonderful

thing. It is a safe, designated space for the endless array of human kink. Porn is there for us when we want to explore or empower ourselves. I don’t think we need the film industry to also take this on. A woman dancing sexy in a strip club invites you to watch to think dirty thoughts about her, a woman dancing sexy in a club is not necessarily the same invitation. Padraic O’Meara

I agree with that for sure. So in finishing this up, what would you like to see in cinema in the future, what’s your desire around sexuality and the female form and cinema? you there?

Padraic O’Meara

Lovely, I want to see more of that too! Sarah, I’ve got to get going, but I am going to be calling on you in the future when I confronted with this conundrum. Sarah Baker

and with all this said, I can almost guarantee you that within my career, I will be making porn. Padraic O’Meara

Sarah Baker thanks Sarah “_ yep thinking

Sarah Baker

Padraic O’Meara my pleasure. Thank you Paddy cool

Sarah Baker

The film industry is largely dominated by men. Men are not the experts on female sexuality and how woman want to be portrayed. I would like to see more female involvement in how women are being portrayed sexually, whether it is more women directors or more female involvement when men are seeking to portray women sexually. Then, whatever the genre is, it gets closer to being infallible. Brio Pop

February, 2014

feeding that illusion

by Andreea Drogeanu

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Of course going to a movie on your first/second date might seem a good idea. It kills the awkwardness and can provide subjects to tap into. No wonder you prefer chatting about actors, directors, a strange line or a visual haunting detail instead of venturing out to say things about yourself and your life. You’re not ready to open and put yourself in a possible vulnerable position. Plain and simple. Going to a theater is a convenient starting point. The trick might work and you hook up sooner than you anticipated. Now you’re a couple. That’s what you wanted right? Wait is it? Several months later getting out of the house on a Friday night for dinner or a movie might feel like an imposed necessity, a bloody drag. “See sweetie we do all these things together”...You might start regretting jumping in a relationship using a film as a quick trampoline, skipping the phase when you build and search for a common foundation. By now the way he eats popcorn, spills soda on his shirt or drops his Metrocard on the floor is driving you crazy. If there are major cracks in the relationship you won’t be keen to venture to a cinema with your partner. The idea of being stuck near somebody that annoys you daily for an infinitely long two hours sounds like jail time. You’ll prefer the alternative of watching Netflix and pass out when you feel like. Yes you can argue that maybe it won’t be that bad and you can cross paths with the love of your life. Sure then everything will be different. With the power of love, suggestion and compromise by your side. Maybe watching films shouldn’t be such a frequent glorified ritual for couples whether they are at the

beginning, middle or towards the end of their ride. Or it shouldn’t be the main (only) activity they share when they are not locked in their room having sex or gorge on food. When it comes to love stories shown on a big screen you start to project feelings on your own life. It’s almost an attempt to borrow and steal that love and inject it in your reality as a couple. But a swap between fiction and reality can’t happen unless you’re a character in a sci-fi world. Just because you both resonate to a fictionalized or realistic love story in a similar way and share a wave of excitement, just because empathy and desire has taken over each cell of your brain momentarily, doesn’t mean you’re more in love today than you were yesterday. The fact that you both like a film and long for the same type of love portrayed there won’t bring it automatically to any of your daily existence. Images and sounds can turn into a fleeting trick. You’re either in love or you’re not. A love story film is a magic medium that creates a temporarily elaborate illusion. So go ahead kiss while the film credits roll trying to recreate a scene that moved you to tears, pull him closer for a warm, embrace and rest your head peacefully on his shoulder. But by doing so you’ve built a moment while still being high from the array of emotions and love folded in the film you just saw. It’s not going to last long if that’s all it is based on. Emotions grow and diversify in time if you really get to know one another, in and out with flaws and imperfections. Facing things together, giving support when needed can lead you to have a special intense connection. Being there with your body and spirit you’ll feel a level of intensity better than any film you saw. How many characters in a film are falling in love or discovering each other while being inside a cinema anyway? The sarcastic and hilarious scene of waiting in line to get a movie ticket from “Annie Hall” just flashed in my head. It’s not a happy one. Imagine a day in which you can’t watch clips or films, browse the internet looking for them or take Instagram pics. No cell phone in your pocket glued to your hand and no other fancy device to distract or entertain you. Cinemas are far or nowhere in sight. Imagine you’re in the middle of nowhere or trapped in a broken elevator. And you just met a fascinating, intriguing girl. The only available tools to discover her are words and gestures. You just have to sit down next to her and talk, listen. Imagine that. BP

Photograph (previous) by Andreea Drogeanu. Photograph (opposite) by Jacqueline Silberbush

Being just a few inches away from somebody you fancy for at least 2 hours in a room partially swallowed by darkness, surrounded by complete strangers, having the best excuse to whisper dumb jokes or sweet nothings, almost touching his ear. Stealing short moments of glancing to his profile, hoping your eyes will meet. Two people watch a film together so the illusion of closeness suddenly keeps them company. Their feet will “accidentally” meet and their elbows will overlap inherently several times. There’s no pressure of starting a discussion when you just observe/pretend to see things-listen to fictitious dialogues or random music chosen to build an emotion. Maybe you’ll laugh out loud, cry or feel the urge to ignore the story on that large screen because it really bores you to death. Or the attraction gets unbearable. Anyway you’ll sense if there’s any real electricity in the air or it’s a crush that was purely an invention of your deceitful mind... From there a first kiss or even a full make-out session can roll on rather easily. Pay attention to your inner-gut or just go with the flow.

Brio Pop

February, 2014

USâ&#x20AC;&#x160; E YOUR

HANDS Art by S.B. Kosinski

with Maddy Kirshoff and Paul Wheatley

Brio Pop

February, 2014

There’s no need to shell out $20 at a trashy sex shop anymore. This massage candle is simple to make and guaranteed to set the mood. 1) Search for an attractive-looking tin or jar; an old glass cup, mason jar, votive holders, any glass or tin container will do the trick. 2) Find some soy wax (usually sold at craft stores) and some sort of vegetable oil; the best are jojoba oil, almond oil, or olive oil (all can be found at any health food store). Measure 3 ounces of the soy wax and 1 ounce of the oil. Stick them in the microwave for 45 seconds to melt. If you don’t own one of those, the stovetop works just as well.

3) Choose a scent. Once again, most health food stores will have essential oils or fragrances. Close your eyes and follow aroma that draws you in. Once you’ve chosen, drop a quarter ounce into the mixture. 56

4) Stir. Wait. If you can. You’re almost there.

5) When the mixture feels cooler, pour it into the jar while holding the wick in the center. If it’s poured in while it’s too hot, there will be ugly holes and that’s just not sexy.

6) Wait for the candle to get hard. Trim the wick.

7) Burn & relax.

Brio Pop

February, 2014

Call For Submissions Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re looking for contributors! If you would like to write for Brio Pop or would like for us to include your art or photography, email us at paulfwheatley@gmail.com

Photograph by Jacqueline Silberbush

Brio Pop

February, 2014