Monday, December 26, 2011
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas from Benoit Lahaye, Brooklyn, and the Russian dolls in the house. Gorgeous wine, tart tart strawberry compote on the nose but so lemony and lean,,,,, did open up so nicely, great start to a new year.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
To the Wedding
"He crosses the silver water, hardly reducing his speed when he corners, moving like mercury, seldom upright, often inclined as though listening to the earth, first on one side and then the other, bending over to listen with pity.
All I had to offer, old as the world, God-given, balm for pain, honey for taste-buds, promise for always, silken welcomes, oh to welcome, knees turned on their sides, toes extended-- all I had has been taken."
(John Berger, To the Wedding, 80-1)
All I had to offer, old as the world, God-given, balm for pain, honey for taste-buds, promise for always, silken welcomes, oh to welcome, knees turned on their sides, toes extended-- all I had has been taken."
(John Berger, To the Wedding, 80-1)
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
San Fereolo Langhe 'Coste di Riavolo' Bianco 2006
RIESLING(70)/GEWURZ(30), Piemonte,IT
On the skins,,,, aged in oak, grippy. Honey and green straw nose, golden orange color, palate like crunching on green peppercorns, raw cardamom pods, eucalyptus, grapefruit pith. I love bitter but this one really takes the cake, riesling nose, but palate like juniper berries and the tiny tin cans of sour grapefruit juice my grandfather used to love for breakfast.
Confirming my suspicions: "ANGRY GREEN TANNINS"
San Fereolo Coste di Riavolo Vino da Tavolo Bianco :"a blend of Gewurztraminer and Riesling Renano, and is a deep brassy gold with brilliant reflections. The bouquet is powerful and frankly medicinal with mint and eucalyptus mingled with honey. Quite charged and quite particular. On the palate it's quite dry -- unexpected this is -- with bright almost brambly minerality supported by considerable warmth and some citric accents, and flows into a long warm mentholated finish with savory overtones. It was a great surprise, and is a wine some will love and others abhor."
(Kyle Phillips Wine Review)
EXACTLY.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Roni Horn interview
Mimi Thompson: How did you end up choosing Iceland as a place to go?
Roni Horn: It’s a question that I’m always asked and I don’t have a real answer for it. I once looked Iceland up in the dictionary and it fell between ice hockey and ice skating. That’s pretty much as controlled a choice as I made. But having gone there, there evolved a relationship that I couldn’t separate myself from. Each time I’d go, there would be engendered the idea to go back and back and back. I guess the real reason is the relationship to yourself that is possible in a place like that. There’s nothing mediating it. There is nothing to obscure or make more complex a perception or a presence.
MT: And yet it’s highly dramatic.
RH: The drama comes from its youth. The landscape is unique in that the geology is very young. It’s like a labyrinth in the definitive sense. It’s big enough to get lost in, but small enough to find yourself. There is little erosion and, as a result, unexpected symmetries exist in unexpected places. America has everything Iceland has, but it’s ten thousand, twenty thousand, one hundred thousand years older, depending on where you look. Growing up in a very “old” landscape—New York City—it’s origins are secreted from the present. I mean that the geological aspect of the landscape in New York City can only be experienced theoretically at this point. In Iceland, you understand empirically exactly what this place is: its what and how. That accessibility effects the nature of one’s experience, the experience of the world. Any place you’re going to stand in, in any given moment, is a complement to the rest of the world, historically and empirically. What you can see in that moment, what you can touch in that moment, is confluent with everything else.
(from Bomb Magazine, Summer, 1989)
****(remembering living in Marfa was like living lit by sun-beams through a facetted cut piece of quartz, nowhere to go but yourself)****
Roni Horn: It’s a question that I’m always asked and I don’t have a real answer for it. I once looked Iceland up in the dictionary and it fell between ice hockey and ice skating. That’s pretty much as controlled a choice as I made. But having gone there, there evolved a relationship that I couldn’t separate myself from. Each time I’d go, there would be engendered the idea to go back and back and back. I guess the real reason is the relationship to yourself that is possible in a place like that. There’s nothing mediating it. There is nothing to obscure or make more complex a perception or a presence.
MT: And yet it’s highly dramatic.
RH: The drama comes from its youth. The landscape is unique in that the geology is very young. It’s like a labyrinth in the definitive sense. It’s big enough to get lost in, but small enough to find yourself. There is little erosion and, as a result, unexpected symmetries exist in unexpected places. America has everything Iceland has, but it’s ten thousand, twenty thousand, one hundred thousand years older, depending on where you look. Growing up in a very “old” landscape—New York City—it’s origins are secreted from the present. I mean that the geological aspect of the landscape in New York City can only be experienced theoretically at this point. In Iceland, you understand empirically exactly what this place is: its what and how. That accessibility effects the nature of one’s experience, the experience of the world. Any place you’re going to stand in, in any given moment, is a complement to the rest of the world, historically and empirically. What you can see in that moment, what you can touch in that moment, is confluent with everything else.
(from Bomb Magazine, Summer, 1989)
****(remembering living in Marfa was like living lit by sun-beams through a facetted cut piece of quartz, nowhere to go but yourself)****
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