This week in the Voice, out today, Graham Rayman tells a sordid story of sex, power, and text messaging involving a Palisades Interstate Parkway police officer’s relationship with a Brooklyn woman, writing: “During the course of her interaction with the Palisades cops in 2010, she had an affair with an officer, Vincent Roberson, including consensual sexual liaisons with him while he was on duty, according to documents obtained by the Voice. When he threatened her, Lawrence filed a complaint with his bosses. He denied the allegations. Without looking for any independent verification of her claims, PIPPD arrested Lawrence and charged her with filing a false report and lying to investigators. But phone and text message records, as well as Roberson’s eventual admissions, proved that she had been telling the truth.”
Robert Sietsema samples Yemen Cafe’s specialties and writes of the area’s bourgeoning Arab population: “The new place is located along a bustling stretch of Fifth Avenue that feels like a Middle Eastern souk: Filigreed brass cookware dangles in glinting displays, bakeries mount racks of baklava in their front windows, and groceries flaunt barrels of olives in shades ranging from deep green to purple to midnight black. And everywhere, carried by the evening’s maritime breezes, the smell of roasting meat perfumes the air.”
In music, Brad Cohan details the rise of Northern Spy, an up-and-coming record label which will host a festival this week: “Sporting a crisp, tucked-in oxford and a neat coif, the fortysomething Tom Abbs is heaping praise on the disheveled, splotchy beardo Adam Downey, his partner in the ascendant New York label Northern Spy Records. Their ‘brotherly dynamic’ (as Abbs calls it) was cultivated while the two worked together — and devised the archetype for their label — at the legendary (but maligned) label ESP-Disk’.”
Michael Atkinson discusses 2012’s New York Asian film festival’s zany highs and lows, noting: “It’s a new year for the city’s favorite attack of the imported irrational — as the original publicity byline put it, Asian Films Are Go!!! — and as always, the New York Asian Film Festival lays out a pungent banquet of popness, psychotronica, and pulpitude. In the day, ‘art films’ by Hong Sang-soo could make it onto the docket, but mostly the fest has been devoted to the sometimes-lunatic indigenous sweetmeats ordinarily left to the Asian home crowds.”
Michael Feingold rather likes As You Like It, minor flaws and all: “And although I’m in agreement with Bernard Shaw about all its shortcomings, recollecting his raillery didn’t keep me from having a thoroughly pleasant time at Daniel Sullivan’s production, with which the Public Theater is celebrating half a century of free Shakespeare in Central Park.”
And in art, Christian Viveros-Faune takes to the sea, explaining that the new show: “‘Caribbean: Crossroads of the World,’ the summer’s big blockbuster exhibition, is a fresh new effort at clearly seeing there from here, it also speaks volumes about present-day New Amsterdam. After all, an exhibition as big, varied, and ambitious as this rare triumph could only really have been dreamed up in the Big Mango — er, I mean the Big Apple.”
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