This week in the Voice, out today: Graham Rayman examines Jazz Hayden’s activism against stop-and-frisk, writing: “Hayden has spent the past four years irritating police officers by videotaping them as they stop and frisk people in Harlem in a program he calls “Copwatch.” He often posts the videos on the Internet. For most of that period, he encountered little more than annoyed cops, but recently, his activities might have caught up with him.”
Robert Sietsema goes nuts at Kavkaz, a Brooklyn eatery which offers sheep testicles: “‘Mutton eggs’ refers somewhat evasively to some impressively large and undoubtedly semen-filled sheep testicles…along with hearts and kidneys, smaller and cuter baby lamb testes are incorporated into the organ tour de force usually called jiz biz but here unpronounceably known as ‘dzyhyz biz.'”
Brad Cohan chats with Charles Gayle about sax and street life: “Gayle’s sax mettle has quelled this city’s clubs, streets, and subways since the ’70s, his skronk-bleeding free jazz fortitude extending from soulful, heart-ripping squeals to shape-shifting, spiritual melody à la Ayler and Coltrane.”
Nick Pinkerton talks about Béla Tarr’s Turin Horse and Miners’ Hymns, slow cinema gems: “Watching his latest, The Turin Horse (co-credited to Ágnes Hranitzky), is an experience comparable to starting down the road with an empty sack then, over the course of the journey, having it weighed down steadily with rocks until you can’t go on. But this backbreaking effect cannot be called an artistic failure. It is exactly what Tarr sets out to achieve.”
Michael Feingold doesn’t get upset about the most recent production of Look Back in Anger, but can only muster mild enthusiasm for the work, like most Americans: “For the British theater, the historical importance of John Osborne’s 1956 play can’t be underestimated. It marked a pivotal shift not only for theatergoers but also for Britain’s cultural consciousness generally. In America, though, Look Back in Anger, while admired, has always evoked a more limited response.”
Robert Shuster explores Doug Wheeler’s latest enclosure: “You might feel like one of those characters about to visit another dimension in fantasy films. Wearing paper booties (supplied for the journey), you will take tentative steps toward the glowing threshold, pass through what appears to be a solid wall, and then move into a foggy, indistinct void–white, pink, or blue depending on the time of day–that seems to be infinite.”
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