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popentertainment-interviews · 7 months ago

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Thelma Schoonmaker

Legendary Film Editor Celebrates Late Husband Michael Powell by Debuting The Doc "Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger" at Tribeca Fest and More

By Brad Balfour

Maybe I should have attended the opening night screening of Black Narcissus when Oscar-winning director Martin Scorsese introduced the Museum of Modern Art's [MoMA] retrospective of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressberger films, but I didn't. Instead, I made it the next night to see legendary film editor, Thelma Schoonmaker, share her thoughts about Powell – her late husband – when the institution screened Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger.

But hell, Marty was the sole narrator of this definitive documentary, so we hear him speak throughout a whole film celebrating the late Michael Powell and his partner, Emeric Pressburger, directed by David Hinton. In fact, Schoonmaker was introduced to Powell by Scorsese and his London-based film producer, Frixos Constantine. The couple were married from May 19, 1984, until his death in 1990. Since they had no children, Schoonmaker has been devoting herself to honoring and preserving the legacy of the many classic films that Powell directed.

Born in January 1940, this American film editor is best known for her five decades-long collaboration with Scorsese. Schoonmaker started working with Scorsese on his 1967 debut feature film, Who's That Knocking at My Door, and has edited all of his films since 1980's Raging Bull. Awarded many accolades, she has won three Academy Awards, two BAFTA Awards, and four ACE Eddie Awards. The 84-year-old has been honored with a British Film Institute Fellowship in 1997, the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement in 2014, and the BAFTA Fellowship in 2019.

In close collaboration with the British Film Institute (BFI), MoMA has been screening a comprehensive retrospective honoring this legendary filmmaking duo, creators of such classic films as The Red Shoes, A Matter of Life and Death and Black Narcissus.

Powell's controversial 1960 film Peeping Tom was so vilified on first release that it seriously damaged his career, but it's now considered a classic and a contender for the first "slasher movie." Besides Scorsese, many renowned filmmakers such as Francis Ford Coppola and George A. Romero have cited Powell as an influence.

In 1981, he received the BAFTA Fellowship along with partner Pressburger – the highest honor the British Academy of Film and Television Arts can bestow upon filmmakers. This series – the largest and most wide-ranging exploration of their work ever undertaken – celebrates the duo's cultural legacy and enduring influence. It features several 35mm prints, as well as new digital restorations of such Powell and Pressburger classics as The Small Back Room, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp and The Tales of Hoffmann. Rarely screened films from Powell's late period will include Oh... Rosalinda!!, The Battle of the River Plate, Peeping Tom, and his long-unavailable 1963 adaptation of Bela Bartok's opera, Bluebeard's Castle. The latter two are newly restored by the BFI National Archive and the Film Foundation.

These true cinematic visionaries and innovators worked together on 24 films between 1939 and 1972, with Powell directing and Pressburger responsible for the scripts – though their duties blended often enough. For the films they produced together as The Archers, their credit reads "Directed and written by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger." The Archers worked with an exceptionally talented group of longtime collaborators who helped to craft and deliver their narrative worlds.

When Schoonmaker introduced the doc at MoMA, she offered these comments:

"I'm very glad that you are going to have a chance to see what it's like when I work with Marty. From the time I met him, he talked about the films of Powell and Pressburger. And when videos finally came around, he would send me home with one from the editing room so I could actually see why he was so excited. Of course, when I saw the films, I became as excited as he was. When he introduced me to Michael Powell at a dinner, while we were editing Raging Bull, I was stunned by him. "Much to the amazement of everyone, including Michael and myself, we began a relationship and eventually married. Michael was with us in New York from The King of Comedy until the film Goodfellas. He loved being back in the film world, and his presence meant so much to Marty as you will see in the documentary. So here's just a few notes, [then] we can get into the documentary about Michael's time with us in New York.

"We have all these great masterpieces to try and get down to a length that's reasonable. Michael would stop me on the street in New York sometimes and demand indignantly, "Why isn't Mean Streets being run every day somewhere in New York City?" He thought it was a masterpiece. He's right.

"Michael gave us the ending for After Hours. We didn't have a strong ending, and some people were giving us ideas like Cheech and Chong should fly away in a balloon. But Michael said no. Richard Dunn has to go back to the hell where we first saw him, teaching someone how to use a computer when what he really wants to do is write a great American novel. That's what Marty shot.

"When The Last Temptation of Christ was under such severe attack even before it was released, we had to have bodyguards for Marty. Marty finally let Michael see an almost finished edit of the film. He was always so worried about showing Michael any edits of our films because he said if he doesn't like it, I'm going to jump out the window. At the end, Michael stood up and there were tears streaming down his face. And I thought, what an incredible gift that was for Marty to be given at that terrible time.

"Most importantly, when Marty couldn't sell Goodfellas to the studios, if you can believe that, because they said he had to take the drugs out. He said, 'I can't.' That's the story. So I think that's in the editing room when I told Michael about it. He got very upset. He said he was ferociously protective of Marty's artistic rights because of what he, himself, had suffered. "And he told me to read him the script. When I finished, he said, get Marty on the phone. When I did, he said to Marty, "This is the best script I've read in 20 years. You have to make it." Marty went in one last time and got it made. Can you imagine if Goodfellas had never been made? But Michael did not live to see it.

"In return, what Marty has done for Michael and Emeric, is so enormous. Nobody's done as much as him to bring the films of Powell and Pressburger back from oblivion, in which they lingered for more than 20 years. He brought Michael Powell to the US, took him to film festivals where he got awards, entered Peeping Tom into the New York Film Festival in 1980, arranged for its re-release in America. And through his film foundation, he has raised the funds to restore eight of the Powell-Pressburger films. That is only a small list of what he has done through the years.

"So when Nick Varley, one of the producers of Made in England: the Films of Powell and Pressburger, suggested making a documentary about them, Marty and I were thrilled. We knew that it should be directed by David Hinton, who had already made a lovely film for the South Bank show on British TV about Michael Powell, when he was still alive and when his autobiography was published. Hinton took everything Marty had ever said or written about Powell and Pressburger and in conjunction with Marty, skillfully created the beautiful script you are about to see.

"David also insisted that Marty should be the only host in the documentary. No talking heads. How right he was. When Marty and I finished working on that little film, Killers of the Flower Moon, We joined into a wonderful collaboration with David and his editor Margarida Cartaxo. Edits flew back and forth across the Atlantic. It was a great joy for me to be living with the great films that I loved so much. You'll see a long list of organizations that funded the documentary, for which we are very grateful. With special thanks to George Harrison's widow, Olivia, who came in at the end to give us a much-needed boost.

"Just in time, for there is an explosion of interest in the films of Powell and Pressburger around the world. The British Film Institute, at the end of last year, put on a major retrospective of their films. Large numbers of young people attended the packed screenings and events. Now, MoMA, collaborating with the BFI, has put on an equally major retrospective for you all to see.

“We are so grateful to Dave Kehr, Olivia Priedite, and Sean Egan for the huge job of getting 50 films here for us all. And because of the amazing interest in the documentary, it is being distributed around the world, even in Beijing, where they screened it three times. We are so grateful to Altitude Movie and Cohen Media for making this possible.

"To end, I want to give my undying thanks to Marty, for letting me help him edit 22 of his movies, for initiating me into the Powell-Pressburger cult and for giving me the most wonderful husband in the world."

In addition, after Tribeca Festival debuted Made in England/The Films of Powell & Pressburger, MoMA's retrospective began. In presenting the doc there, Schoonmaker answered a few questions from a moderator about the film:

What is it like watching this?

Oh, it's so emotional. This film was made with quite a few people who really love Powell. It came out of years of Marty sending me home with videos of their movies and educating me about them and talking about them all the time. The producer of this film, Nick Varley, suggested to me that we make a documentary about it because of the wonderful celebration of Powell and Pressburger last year in England, in which I participated a lot.

Now MoMA is doing exactly the same celebration. They're going to run 50 films of these men. I never get tired of these movies and was so thrilled to be part of it. Marty's deep emotion about this movie is just what makes it so strong. Nobody ever did more to bring Powell and Pressburger back to the world than Marty. Many other people – Ian Christie, Kevin Goff Yates, Bertrand Tavernier – did great work to bring it back. But it was Marty who really, because of his ability to create publicity for them, made sure that the Museum of Modern Art ran a retrospective many years ago. Getting Peeping Tom reissued, all these things Marty did. Then he introduced my husband to me. It's an amazing thing to share with you all. And I do hope you'll go and see things at the Museum of Modern Art. Yes, definitely.

This is such a fascinating documentary, and it's very much a love story from Scorsese to them.

When I went to the celebration in England, there were so many young people there. I would look out at the audience, and half of them would be young people. They are coming in droves to these meetings. They're rediscovering them. I went up to Toronto to show this documentary, and after that they ran 10 films of Powell and Pressburger. They said it was packed with young people. Michael and Emmerich would be so thrilled to know that. Any time would have been the right time, but we seem to have accidentally hit a particular moment. That is wonderful.

Talk a little bit about the decision to tell the story of Powell and Pressberger's career through the lens of another filmmaker?

I think David – this movie's wonderful director – said that he wanted Marty to be the host. He didn't want a lot of talking heads. But he said, "No, I just want one person. I want Marty to do it." Of course, we agreed. I think he was absolutely right.

He's been a champion for their films for such a long time. you can really feel the love and connection to their films through his films.

Yes, I think he's probably one of the best working filmmakers who can talk about film.

You made an interesting choice with the film to highlight just a few of the films. Do you think that there is one film that you could pick that is the most meaningful or most special to you from Powell and Pressburger?

I hate that question because that's like saying, which of your children do you like best? I love them all. But my personal favorite is The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, which I accidentally saw when I was 15. We weren't allowed to watch TV except when our mother chose what we should watch at night. But my mother worked as a nursery schoolteacher, and I got home before her from high school, and I turned on this wonderful million-dollar movie that Marty talks about in the documentary where they ran the same film nine times in one week. Marty would try and watch them nine times unless his mother got fed up and stopped him. I just happened to turn on the TV and there was this amazing film. I will never forget it. It just marked me so deeply. Little did I know that I would, many years later, meet the director and marry him.

Michael's personal favorite was A Matter of Life and Death. He loved being a magician and he could do anything he wanted in that movie. Create heaven and earth, forget all about continuity and the things we're supposed to do when we make films. Just do what was right. Of course, Rex Ingram – the director that he worked with at the Victorine Studios when he was young – had inspired him with this love of magic. So that was his favorite.

Made in England: The Films of Powell & Pressburger Opens Friday, July 12th Q&As with Thelma Schoonmaker, 7/12 & 7/13 The Quad 34 W 13th St. New York, NY 10011 Contact: [email protected]

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#thelma schoonmaker #2024 #Movie Interviews #Made in England #Brad Balfour #Youtube

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apexart-journal · 7 months ago

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Dario Mohr in Bogota, Day 19

Today I went to the gym, and then road a bike downtown to meet with a fantastic curator named William Contreras Alfonso, who also happens to be one of the Apex International Open Call winners. He was very down to Earth and open about his journey becoming a curator, having developed initial interest in an art history class and is now at a place where he is curating a series of installations at the Salt Cathedral I'd just visited days earlier in Zipaquira.

I was really impressed by the tasting I did the day before at Arte y Pasión Café, so I opted for us to meet there, where i had a Coffee Lemonade, and we spoke for about two and a half hours about topics ranging from the landscape of art in Colombia vs the U.S., where things are headed, representation, spirituality and some of our own life experiences. We then walked to the Police Museum where he shared a lot of his knowledge about the history of the Police Department in Colombia. The highlight of this exhibit was a custom made, salmon colored Harley Davidson motorcycle previously owned by Pablo Escobar. A lot of the exhibits were behind doors and we for some reason were not allowed in, so we peered through windows to see most of what was on display.

After that we went to The Black Magic Market, which I was really excited to visit and learn more about the Indigenous spiritual instruments and herbs. I thought I'd seen it all in Togo at the Grand Fetish Market a couple years back (world's largest Vodun Market). Was definitely not prepared for some of what I saw and was super grateful William was there to explain because I would have been very confused. There were statues ranging from the usual: Jesus, Buddha, sacred elephants, orgone pyramids, etc., but also a range of unexpected icons, and some of which gave me pause. In an earlier conversation about my installation practice, I previously spoke about the idea that objects can be imbued with power by a person's intention. It was very interesting to learn that a hot item at the market is a figure of a rebel soldier with a gun, or even a figure of Pablo Escobar, that people in the drug trafficking trade worship to bring about good luck, or bad luck to enemies. There were other more innocuous discoveries, like Elf and Troll statues which he believed became more popular as idols of worship in the 80s thanks to the media, and specifically the nerdier side of Heavy Metal which i tend to like (Shout out to Ronnie James Dio 🤘). There were also lots of herbs that had a range of propeties from physical healing to magic. All in all a fantastically selected excursion for a weirdo like myself!

We then walked to the space where he plants to exhibit his Apex show: "Null", which he says "comes from a term used in telecommunications meaning a misspoint, a false data input or a programming mistake. This project tries to reevaluate wrong choices and system errors as an start point for brand new ideas and possibilities for the future, believing in people's connection as its key." That show will be taking place October 2nd to November 5th, and is using a really fantastic space consisting of several abandoned floors with loose wires, broken walls and ceilings and crush brick debris and sand scattered across the floor in places. All in all a fantastic afternoon getting to know a Curator at the pinnacle of his career.

Then I biked to the barber, got a shape up and then went home and relaxed a bit until an English Language Exchange Meetup Group for Karaoke. Unfortunately no one did any Karaoke, but I invited a couple expats I met previously (one from yesterday at the Tour and the other from the first Meetup I did on Day 2). We met a bunch of people and then I proposed we got to Theatron where a bunch of us went and partied until 4am. All in all, another day for the books.

#Dario Mohr #Outbound to Bogota

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taruntravell · 1 year ago

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Exploring New York's Neighborhoods: A Tourist's Guide to the Boroughs

Exploring NY City tours neighborhoods can be an exciting and diverse experience, as each borough offers its own unique charm, culture, and attractions. Here's a tourist's guide to the five boroughs of New York helicopter tours City:

1. Manhattan:

Midtown Manhattan: Explore iconic landmarks such as Times Square, Broadway, Rockefeller Center, and Central Park.

Lower Manhattan: Visit the Financial District, where you can see Wall Street, the 9/11 Memorial, and take a ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

Upper West Side and Upper East Side: Enjoy cultural institutions like the American Museum of Natural History and The Met, as well as beautiful Central Park.

Harlem: Experience the rich history of Harlem, including the Apollo Theater and soul food restaurants.

Greenwich Village and SoHo: Stroll through these artistic neighborhoods filled with shops, cafes, and historic streets.

2. Brooklyn:

DUMBO: Admire the stunning views of the Manhattan skyline from Brooklyn Bridge Park, and explore trendy shops and art galleries.

Williamsburg: Enjoy a vibrant arts and music scene, with hipster boutiques, bars, and restaurants.

Coney Island: Visit the famous boardwalk, Luna Park amusement park, and enjoy a hot dog at Nathan's Famous.

Prospect Park: Relax in this vast green space designed by the same architects who created Central Park.

3. Queens:

Flushing: Explore the diverse food scene, with a focus on Asian cuisine. Visit Flushing Meadows-Corona Park, home to the Unisphere from the 1964 World's Fair.

Astoria: Discover Greek restaurants, the Museum of the Moving Image, and beautiful Astoria Park.

Long Island City: Enjoy stunning waterfront views, visit MoMA PS1, and take a stroll along the Gantry Plaza State Park.

Jamaica: Experience Caribbean culture, taste delicious Jamaican food, and visit the King Manor Museum.

4. The Bronx:

The Bronx Zoo: Explore one of the largest metropolitan zoos in the world.

The New York Botanical Garden: Enjoy the beautiful gardens and seasonal exhibitions.

Yankee Stadium: Catch a baseball game and feel the excitement of the New York Yankees.

Bronx Museum of the Arts: Discover contemporary art and cultural exhibitions.

5. Staten Island:

Staten Island Ferry: Take a free ride to see the Statue of Liberty and enjoy picturesque views of the Manhattan skyline.

St. George: Visit the Staten Island Museum and the historic St. George Theatre.

Snug Harbor Cultural Center: Explore botanical gardens, art museums, and performance spaces in this historic complex.

Don't forget to try the diverse cuisine each borough has to offer, from street food vendors to fine dining establishments. New York City's public transportation system makes it easy to explore all of these neighborhoods, so get a MetroCard and start your adventure!

#NY City tours #New York helicopter tours

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potassiumlovergirl · 1 year ago

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Spain, Barcelona a City of Dreams: A Visual Feast

Vacation is what we usually do whenever we have free time, we have been with our family or even our friend on vacation and discover things like how beautiful their place is, what their way of life is and the delicious foods they eat. In 28 of september 2023 We decided to go on vacation in Spain, Barcelona, where I was there with my family and my friends we had fun walking around there we met many people in Barcelona. We first visited the stunning beaches and bustling streets of the Gothic Quarter, Barcelona is a feast for the senses. Barcelona is quite possibly my favourite city in Europe, it has absolutely everything a visitor could want: beaches, history about the city, arts like paintings, cultures, traditions, foods and awesome nightlife. Every time I visit I can totally imagine myself living there in spain, it seems to give me a feeling of comfort when I step foot in Barcelona it gives me a piece of mind and freedom to do what I want. Because of our sightseeing in Barcelona we discovered many things about the place we visited.

Let's explore the brief history of Spain, Barcelona:

Spain is one of the largest ports and the second largest city, it is the main industrial and commercial center of the country, as well as a major cultural and educational center. It is said to have been founded in the 3rd century BC by the Carthaginians or Phoenicians, and was later ruled by the Romans and Visigoths. The Moors captured it c. AD 715, but it was retaken by the Franks under Charlemagne in 801 and made the capital of the Spanish March (Catalonia). After Catalonia was united with Aragon in 1137, Barcelona became a thriving commercial center and the rival of Italian ports. It was the loyalist capital in 1937–39 during the Spanish Civil War; its capture of Francisco Franco led to the collapse of the Catalan resistance and the reunification of Catalonia with Spain.

Modern Barcelona is known for its beautiful architecture, including Antoni Gaudí's buildings the Sagrada Família which attracts many foreigners as it is currently under construction as a church in the Eixample district of Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain. It is the largest unfinished Catholic church in the world. It has become part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site. On 7 November 2010, Pope Benedict XVI consecrated the church and declared it a minor basilica.

Why is the Sagrada Familia taking so long?

Sagrada Familia's unfinished state can be attributed to a combination of factors, including changes in design, funding challenges, and external events like the Spanish Civil War and the COVID-19 pandemic. And it also the reason is Complexity and a lack of funds. Antoni Gaudí passed away before its completion, so without his presence it is difficult to move forward without trampling over his original vision. Not to mention that funds that are used to move forward in the construction are from tourism, sponsorships, and donations. Sagrada Familia is top Attraction in barcelona spain.

Famous landmarks of Barcelona, Spain

And also we visited Park Guell this is the famous park with mosaic benches and the salamander. This Park Guell is a sightseeing must-see when visiting Barcelona. However, only a limited number of visitors are admitted every hour. The park used to be free, but now you have to purchase your tickets in advance. The view is Authentic and beautiful.

Another beautiful building that we visit is also designed by Antoni Gaudí is Casa Milà also known as 'La Pedrera'. This means the 'quarry', named after the rugged appearance of the complex. When we visited this place I was amazed by the design and the beautiful view and I wanted to take a picture of this place.

Some of Barcelona Museums

Aside of Beautiful buildings we also discovered A statue in honor of Christopher Columbus located at Port Vell. The statue can be viewed for free from outside. That's why we also take a picture for that for remembrance. After we visited the statue of Columbus me and my friends went to a museum where there is a big ship. The Barcelona Maritime Museum, near the column of Columbus is an institution dedicated to maritime culture and over 80 years of maritime history. The mission of the maritime museum is the preserving, studying, and promoting of the nation's maritime heritage, which is one of the richest in the Mediterranean. The maritime museum is located in the building of the Royal shipyards, on the coast of Barcelona and at the base of the Montjuïc hill.

In the Catalan city we realized that there are many museums here, including a number of appealing art museums. Besides the Picasso museum the most popular museums are the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya in the Palau Nacional, the Fundacio Joan Miró and the science museum Cosmo Caixa.

Events and Traditions of Barcelona, Spain

Apart from the buildings and museums of Barcelona, spain we also discovered their traditions. One of their traditions is the Sardana dance to give Rosa's and books on Sant Jordin's Day. These traditions make Barcelona a unique place in the world. This traditional dance is one of the most emblematic symbols of Catalan culture. This symbol stands for unity and pride for catalan. Throughout the region of Catalunya the Sardana dance is unique and fascinating to watch. People put their hands together and dance in circles with small precise steps. The circle slowly rotates, and rotates as more people join in to make the circle bigger. It is said to be the traditional national dance of Catalonia. They have also Semana Santa- Spain's Unique Holy week comes with religious processions in Sevilla, the La Tomatina- the world biggest food fight. La Tomatina is celebrated on the last Wednesday of August every year in the town of Buñol near Valencia in Spain and this year, it falls on August 31. It is a food fight festival enjoyed by thousands of people, and is the world’s biggest food fight!. about 40,000 to 50,000 people would visit the town for the tomato fight. However, since then, official ticketing has been put in place, limiting the number of people to 20,000. And they have also tradition, Running of the bulls, the Las Fallas-a festival of fire, and El Colacho-A Baby Jumping Festival.

If in barcelona there are traditions, you can also enjoys a typically Mediterranean climate with hot summers and cool winters. It is less hot in summer and warmer in the winter than many other Spanish coastal resorts. Barcelona is on the sea and has what's called a Mediterranean climate. This means that autumn, spring and winter can be wet, although temperatures stay fairly mild. The summers are hot and dry.

Dos and Don'ts For visiting Barcelona

According to my experience, there are dos and don'ts when in Spain, Barcelona.

Do:

1. Do Use public transport

2. Don’t eat/drink in the café’s or restaurants directly on La Rambla

3. Do Buy tickets online

4. Do Try speaking a little spanish or Catalan

like "Por favor, Gracias, and Bon dia go a long way."

5. Do eat ALL the seafood

6. Do get lost in the Gothic quarter

7. Do go shopping in Eixample

8. DO have an amazing time.

Don'ts:

1. Don’t bother with the cable car from Montjuic to the port

2. Don’t miss having lunch at a food market

3. Don’t JUST stay in the tourist areas

4. Don’t rock up to a club before 2am

This is the end of my Journey in Barcelona,

All I can say about the place I'm vacationing is the beaches and the beautiful places here in Barcelona, Spain are amazing. I discovered a lot about this country. The people here are generous and they welcome you when you are visiting here. Their traditions and culture are amazing, their buildings are beautiful and historical. I like that place that is visited because I like Daniel and Kathryn's Movie in "Barcelona the love untold" They show how beautiful the places are and what kind of life there is in Barcelona, The history of Bacilio de la sagrada Família was so amazing and best attractions in barcelona. all the things I have seen in Barcelona, Spain will give me the determination to continue my travel in different places.

This is the end of my story in Barcelona, Spain

Reference:

Barcelona.(n.d).Barcelona,Spainhttps://ticketshop.barcelona/http://eattravelraverepeat.com/travel/barcelona

#travel #traveling #photography #aesthetic

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year ago

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A man named Patrick Bringley published a memoir earlier this year called All the Beauty in the World. When his brother died from cancer, Bringley quit his job in media and became a museum guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Americas’ largest museum. He wanted to stand still in the most beautiful place he knew. He stood still there for 10 years. I loved Bringley’s book. It taught me how to get more out of museums, how to pay attention, and how to think differently about time. Since I read it (and — disclosure — began to date someone who loves to draw), I started to want to see better. You know when you start to learn about wine, and suddenly you care where a wine is from? I wanted that, but for art, and also for life. So we started drawing: at museums, we drew the art. This is even more fun with children, so we brought my sisters’ kids along. We drove to the Bruce Museum in Connecticut, sprawled out on the floor with pencils and markers, and drew until it got dark. At one point my niece Scarlett turned to my boyfriend Larry. They were drawing a Lois Dodd night painting, a peaceful view of a barn at night. “Why are you in such a hurry?” she asked him, as she steadily filled her barn with dark grey. “Maybe you should slow down.”

A few months later I asked Bringley to walk me around the Met, to record an episode of the FT Weekend podcast, which I host. I was still looking for guidance, and thought he could teach listeners, too. His advice was, basically, the same as Scarlett’s: slow down. We passed through corridors that spanned tens of thousands of years, and I asked him how to avoid feeling like you just don’t get it. Like you went somewhere, and you walked, and looked, but didn’t really see. He suggested going alone. “Right now, you and I are walking through Medieval Art and we’re talking about things that have nothing to do with Medieval art,” he told me. “But if you and I split off from each other and I said, ‘Go look at this stuff for 15 minutes and I’ll look at this for 15 minutes,’ your soul could quieten down. You could start to be penetrated by it.” We ended up in the Impressionist rooms, some of the busiest in the Met, in front of a Van Gogh. I asked him for his rules for contemplating a painting. His first: do nothing. Look at the details, then look at the whole thing. Don’t decide if it’s good or bad, because that’s not even really the point, is it? Just decide if it does anything to you. “All of that,” he said, “takes time and quiet.” Then go away, do that with other art too, learn more, “and then return, return. Keep returning.”

A few days later, Larry, his brother, my niece Athena and I went back to the Met. Athena, who’s seven, had one rule: “Just don’t rush me, OK? If I’m drawing something, please let me finish.” We agreed to her conditions. No one was allowed to rush. We made little books and passed them around. We drew Egyptian mummies, and Ghanaian memorial heads. We stopped to get a snack and drew each other. I drew a Lee Krasner painting and Larry drew a Josef Albers and a little girl asked to draw with us and Athena eyed her suspiciously. We went back to the Impressionist rooms, to a gallery full of Monets. Athena stood in front of his haystacks. I stood in front of his water lilies. We drew. Someone came up behind us. “Are you drawing?” they asked. Yeah, we said. Huh, they said. Athena asked me what I noticed. I told her that most lines go horizontally in the water, but the tree reflections go vertically. I asked what she noticed. She said that the haystack’s shadows were the same size as the haystacks, but upside down. A steady stream of people took a photo of the water lilies and moved along. They barely looked at the painting itself. Snap, turn. Snap, turn I looked over and Larry was writing down her phrase: “What did you notice?” Moved by her focus, I took a photo of her drawing, and suddenly noticed the scene around us. There was Athena, finishing her haystack, occasionally jostled by the crowd. Behind her was a steady stream of people taking a photo of the water lilies and moving along. They barely looked at the painting itself. Snap, turn. Snap, turn. I realised I’d been guilty of this too, not too long ago. I also realised some of these people were dressed up to match the water lilies. They were taking influencer photos, with the water lilies.

This kid, a member of the screen-addled, attention-less generation post-Z, was the one standing there, quietly looking, demanding not to be rushed. Instead it was the people around her, buzzing in her ear, who weren’t. The adults had forgotten. In September, Larry and I took a month off and travelled through Europe and Turkey. At this stage I was drawing real stuff, too, and humbled daily by how hard it is to draw as an adult. It was as if my hands had been developmentally arrested at six years old, but they were itchy. I’ve doodled aimlessly for years, though nothing more than stars, dots, random shapes. I imagine this is why colouring books got so popular for a while. Colouring is hard for adults to mess up. In the seminal 1979 book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, Betty Edwards teaches you to separate what your brain assumes something looks like from the shapes you’re actually seeing. To help people see, she has students draw a piece of recognisable art that’s been turned upside down. When they turn it right side up, they’re shocked to see it’s nearly perfect.

[Financial Times]

#seeing art #Financial Times #about art #seeing

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batri-jopa · 2 months ago

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Nan Goldin (full speech)

Opening Speech 'This Will Not End Well' at Neue Nationalgalerie (Berlin, 22. Nov. 2024):

The four minutes you spent standing in silence represence one one hundredth of a second for each of the 44,757 people killed in Palestine by Israeli forces. Half of them children. 10,000 of them burried under the ruble. And the 3,516 people killed in Lebanon by Israeli forces. And 815 Israeli civilians killen on October 7th.

Were you uncomfortable? I hope so. We need to feel uncomfortable to feel our bodies under siege even for a minute. Those are the official numbers, however there is other reporting that the direct and indirect deaths from this war is closer to 186,000.

Why did I feel I have to talk tonight? This is my lifetime retrospective but there is nothing from the past year and that's missing. The museum kept its promise to allow me to talk and I thank them. But they claim that my activism and my art are separate even though that it has never been the case. The last year has been Palestine and Lebanon for me. Since October 7th I found it hard to breathe. I feel the catastrophe in my body. But ut's not in this show.

Why am I talking to you, Germany? Because tongues have been tied gagged by the goverment, the police and the cultural crackdown. This is the city that we used to consider refuge. Now over 180 artists, writers and teachers have been cancelled since October 7th. Some for something as banal as a like on Instagram. Many of the Palestinians, 20% of the Jews.

Why am I talking here? I decided to use this exhibition as a platform to amplify my position of moral outrage at the genocide in Gaza and Lebanon. I saw my show is a test case. Is an artist in my position is allowed to express their political stance without being cancelled I hope I'm paving a path for other artists to speak out without these being censored. I hope that's the result. Why can't I speak, Germany? Criticism of Israel has been conflated with antisemitism. Anti-Zionism has nothing to do with antisemitism.

[loud applause from audience]

This is a false equivalency used to maintain the occupation of Palestine and to supress those who speak out. The word antisemitism has been weaponized. It's lost its meaning. In declaring all criticism against Israel is antisemitic it makes it harder to define and stop violent hatred against Jews.

[voices from the audience: "Hundred percent, yeah!"]

We are less saved. Is that all, Germany? Meanwhile islamophobia is being ignored. The goverment's weaponization of antisemitism is being aimed at the Palestinian community in this country and those who speak out and support for them. Germany is home of the largest Palestinian diaspora in Europe yet protesters met with police dogs, they met deportations and stigmatization.

[Another applause from audience]

Are you Listening, Germany? Yesterday the highest criminal court in the world, the ICC officially issued arrest warrants for Netanyahu and Gallant for war crimes of starvation as a method of warfare

[Voices from audience: "Lock them up!"]

for crimes against humanity, for the widespread and systematic attack of the civilian population of Gaza. The ICJ is talking about genocide. The UN is talking about genocide. Even the Pope is talking about genocide. We're not supposed to call it a genocide.

Are you afraid to hear this, Germany? This is a war against children. Children are directly targeted, shot in a head. On average a child is killed in Gaza every 10 minutes. They're intentionally destroying the next generation. The children, who lose their entire families are asking to die. What have you learned, Germany?

[Audience: "nothing! Nothing!"]

My grandparents escaped the groules in Russia. I was brought up knowing about Nazi Holocaust. What I see in Gaza reminds me of the pogroms that me grandparents escaped. Never again means never again for everyone.

[Long loud applause from the audience]

Israel defines itself as the eternal victim, which means you can never be blamed and so is incapable of victimizing others. Why can't you hear this, Germany? There has been a genocide unfolding on our phones for the last 14 months in real time. The first genocide that's ever been live streamed. The heroic journalists are risking their lives to send us daily dispatches even as they are targeted by bombs and drones. 137 journalists have been targeted and killed since October 7th, mostly Palestinians. Israel doesn't want a record left.

What don't you see, Germany? We cannot look away. Can you imagine if it was possible to watch the war in Vietnam, the etjnic cleansing in Bosnia or even the Holocaust live stream on your phone. Would we have turned it away? Even if we are incapable to change what is going on, we need to bear witness. And we need to amplify the voices of the Palestinians. But there is still an opportunity for the world to step in and stop this horror. Why are you afraid to hear this, Germany?

There is a total eradication of the conditions for life of an entire population. The Israeli generals have made their intentions clear: to mow the lawn. This is clearly ethnic cleansing. It was a landgrab from the beginning. Most people have been displaced multiple times and now there's going waterfront real estate on Palestinian land at synagogues in the US. The loss of civilian life has been intentional. If there was a terrorist in the tunnels of the New York subway system wpuld they drop a 2,000 pound bomb on the entire subway? Why can't you see this, Germany?

It's a domicide as well. 88% of homes have been destroyed in Gaza. Almost every Palestinian has been forcibly displaced. The entire infrastructure of Palestine has been destroyed. The hospitals, the schools, the universities, the libraries. It's also a cultural genocide. Why can't you see this, Germany?

In a country like Israel, where everyone is a soldier, extreme violence has become accepted. Cruelty and cynicism have become the norm. There are thousands of hours of TikTok video of soldiers committing war crimes. They prosecute themselves: smashing up home, dressinh up in women's lingerie, celebrating burning villages, bragging of killing children.

I'm talking to America: this slaughter would stop if the US stopped arming Israel

[Applause from audience]

US has spend $22 billion on military to aid to Israel, 69% of the weapons being used in the slaughter are US made and 30% are from Germany.

[Voices from audience: "shame on you! Shame!"]

I will not stop talking to you America. This is not just an Israeli war, it's also an American war. Cirporations are profiting wildly, their stocks of skyrocketed as the US vetos cease resolutions over and over.

Why am I talking? Because advocating for human rights cannot be antisemitic

[Long applause from audience]

because I use words people here feeling danger to say because the Israel and Germany use the Holocaust and memory culture to manufacture innocence. Because social media is shutting down pro-Palestinian voices. Because of potentional starvation of an entire population. Because of the occupation of 75 years that has to be ended. Because Lebanon is beginning to look like Gaza.

What do we need to do? Millions of people around the world are scream8ng for a ceasefire, for an arms embargo but their goverments are not listening. We need to demand an arms embargo. Meanwhile it's about time to stop policing our allies. If we're on the same side we should support each other even if we have different methods. Agree that our anger need to be channeled into action. The most important thing is to take to the streets

[applause from audience]

The more of us there are the more of us there are.

Video on Instagram in case YouTube was unavailable:

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DCwVWtqiwID/?utm_source=ig_web_button_native_share

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Nan Goldin Opens Exhibition In Berlin With Fiery Speech Against Israel | United States

#nan goldin #free palestine #gaza genocide #palestinian genocide #islamophobia #I couldn't find the text of her full speech anywhere so finally I wrote it down myself #(I could not stop myself from emphasizing few most powerful quotes...)#Palestine #gaza #ceasefire

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infinitehyperfixations · 2 years ago

Text

Ribbons and Steel

When Metal Meets String - Piotr's POV

This is the first part of my Colossus x OC slow burn, enemies to lovers fic. I hope all of you enjoy!

Summary: Piotr, Ellie, and Professor X are invited to a fundraising gala for a mutant charity. The event is held in a museum in New York City which holds the world's largest red diamond - The Devil's Treasure. Piotr's hopes of having a peaceful night crumble before him when a thief crashes the gala.

(I apologize if the summary sucks!)

Rated T for language and violence

Word Count: 8.1K

Comments and Reblogs are love!

No one is what they seem.

Piotr wished he would’ve listened to that phrase when he met her. Everyone hides details about themselves upon the first meeting - even he knew that. A strong reputation means nothing if someone is forced to use it like a mask. They may be too afraid to show who they really are because they believe that everyone will see them as they see themself.

A Coward.

A Monster.

A Failure.

It will require patience and trust to discover one’s real identity. Only when you look behind the closed curtain can you see their true self. Trying to coax out the smallest detail may take weeks even months but it will be worth it in the end.

It took Piotr too long to discover what hid behind her mask and it almost cost her everything.

-----

Three months after the events of Deadpool 2…

Much to Piotr’s surprise, it had been a quiet couple of months. Well, quiet as it could get for any superhero. There were always the rescue missions, the bank heists that needed to be foiled, and Wade’s endless chaos that needed to be tended to. On top of that, he was leading the newly formed X-Force team which only consisted of Cable, Wade, Domino and himself. (NTW and Yukio were considered junior members since they were not of age yet.) Of course, being the Art and Russian teacher at the Professor’s Institute brought in even more tasks for himself. He had assignments to grade, lesson plans to review, and school events that needed chaperoning.

For three months, Piotr did not have to stop a world-ending crisis nor face a new threat to mutant kind. It was more than he could ask for after helping Wade save Russel a few months ago. It seemed the universe was finally giving him a break but he soon realized that it was just the calm before the storm.

“Remind me why I’m here again?” Ellie groaned, looking longingly at the museum’s exit.

Piotr and Ellie stood in the middle of a fundraising gala for the Drake Foundation that was being held in a museum in New York City. The foundation was a charity that supplied homeless mutants food, housing, and free education opportunities across the world. The Professor was invited to speak at the event and was allowed to bring two guests. Unfortunately, the X-Men were on a mission so Piotr and Ellie had to come to represent the institute with the Professor.

The large, circular entrance of the museum was converted into an exquisite banquet hall for the gala. The hall was illuminated by bright lights with enormous stone pillars lining the walls. In the center of the room was a sea of tables that were covered in white table cloths and decorated with colorful bouquets. Directly above the center of the floor was a wide circular sky light that revealed the bright lights of the neighboring buildings.

One of the first things that Piotr noticed when he entered the building were the huge banners showing the various exhibits inside the museum. The most featured one was the world’s largest red diamond - deemed The Devil’s Treasure according to one of the banners. He figured that the exhibit was under high surveillance and was closed off like the rest of the museum.

“Because it was either this, or Wade duty,” Piotr reminded her as he gazed over the large crowd of rich people. He caught a few of them stealing glances at his metal form but thought nothing of it. He was used to people staring at him.

“Is it too late to trade places with Cable?” Ellie questioned as she tried to loosen the collar of her black suit. “I think I would rather deal with Wade than these people.”

“Yes it is,” Piotr sighed, looking down at his trainee. “It is good we are here to represent institute.”

“I mean, yes it’s good we’re here for that,” Ellie groaned, “but do we really have to wear suits?”

Piotr couldn’t help but silently agree with her. He was worried that he was going to rip his suit (which was very expensive and annoying to get) in his metal form. Since the Professor wanted a representative from the X-Men, he requested for Piotr to be in his armored form at the gala because no one would recognize him in his normal form. He only agreed because if something were to happen, he wouldn’t accidentally ruin his suit as he changed into his metal form.

“And you told me to not use my phone,” Ellie pointed out.

“Socializing would be good for you,” Piotr joked, earning an eye-roll from the teenager.

“Oh yes, because I am obviously the best choice when it comes to talking to snobby rich people,” Ellie whisper-yelled harshly. “Yukio picked a bad time to go visit her family.”

Piotr simply rolled his eyes at Ellie, “You can just hide behind me and I will do most of talking.”

“Was already planning on it, big guy.”

While the last minute arrivals gathered at their tables, Piotr and Ellie decided to stand near the Professor as he conversed with the other guests. The Professor answered most of their questions about the school while Piotr told them about working with the students. Ellie, much to her discomfort, was asked about her experience there and gave short and simple answers. When Piotr noticed how anxious she was, he made an attempt to escort Ellie to their table but stopped when he heard someone say his name.

When Piotr turned around a man in a deep red and black suit (which was definitely more expensive than his own) greeted him with a friendly smile. He reminded Piotr of the male models on the book covers of horrible billionaire romance novels that some of his students read. He was young (Piotr guessed around his age) with deep tan skin, dark brown eyes, and jet black hair which was loosely combed back. He was nearly as tall as Piotr but he still had to crane his neck a bit.

“Colossus!” The mystery man greeted in a British accent. His voice was deep but very welcoming. “Sorry to stop you and your colleague but I wanted to introduce myself.”

When the man held out his hand, Piotr noticed faint scars on his knuckles. They were similar to the ones Piotr would get when he trained too hard. He didn’t think too much about them since they seemed to be very old…but it was still odd.

“My name is James Levine,” He said as they shook hands. His grip was strong enough to impress Piotr. “On behalf of my family and the Drake Foundation, I would like to thank you and the X-Men for helping mutants around the world.”

“Thank you, it is our duty to make world better for everyone,” Piotr replied as the Professor turned to them. “Do you run this charity?”

“My family and Drake Industries do,” Levine answered. “Our board of directors and myself are working on building a location in the U.S. to help mutants here. We have many scattered around Europe but we wish to expand.”

“Mr. Levine,” The Professor greeted, moving next to Piotr, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

“Professor Xavier! Believe me the feeling is mutual,” Levine said as he peered down at the Professor. “Thank you for coming and bringing your X-Men tonight.”

“Thank you for inviting us.”

Piotr took a moment to glance back at Ellie, who was using him as a human shield to hide from the crowd. He expected her to be on her phone (which he would have been fine with) but she was staring at Mr. Levine inquisitively. As long as Levine didn’t divert his attention on her then she should be fine.

“Drake Industries would like to make a donation to your school,” Levine stated, as a woman - who Piotr didn’t notice before - stepped into view behind the billionaire. He assumed it must be his assistant.

The thin woman wore a deep purple suit which complemented her dark brown skin and figure. Her lavender colored hair was wrapped neatly into small bantu knots. Despite the fact that she was barely tall enough to meet his shoulders, she was an intimidating woman. Her stern, dark eyes and her sharp eyeliner would have made any normal person nervous. Her lips were painted with black lipstick with a light purple center. A gold nose ring hung above her lips and matched the small golden hoops in her ears.

“Mr. Levine,” The woman said in a dry tone. Her voice had a cold sound to it and Piotr couldn’t quite place her accent. “It is time to prepare for your welcoming speech.”

Mr. Levine nodded and turned back to Piotr and the Professor. “My apologies, I must go with Miss Ba. I hope you enjoy your night.”

Levine turned away from them and followed Miss Ba through the large crowd. When he was far enough away, Ellie came out of her hiding spot behind Piotr.

“He seemed…nice I guess,” Ellie mumbled, “but his assistant is terrifying.”

Since Piotr was tall enough, he was able to watch Mr. Levine weave through the crowd to get to the stage that was assembled in front of the tables. He trailed behind Miss Ba who went behind the stage.

“It was nice of him to make donation,” Piotr said, looking down at the Professor.

“Yes, it was,” The Professor agreed as Ms. Ba walked on the stage towards the podium.

“Everyone,” Miss Ba announced with a fake smile, “please head to your seats so the evening may begin.”

While everyone began to make their way to their tables, Piotr looked around the large room and noticed a few of the museum security guards that roamed along the walls. They had walkie-talkies attached to their vests and were armed with tasers and a baton stick. Most of them were calmly looking around the room and quietly speaking into their two-way radios. He assumed that there were other guards stationed at the exhibits - especially the one that held the Devil’s Treasure.

Piotr and Ellie followed the Professor to their assigned table which was close to the stage. There were three other seats at the table that were for some guests that Piotr did not know. He assumed they were gifted to the highest paying donors. A grimace fell on his face when he saw his seat.

“I cannot sit here,” Piotr said, trying to hide his mild annoyance.

Ellie snapped her head up at the large metal man, “What do you mean?”

“This chair,” Piotr said as he simply pulled out his seat to show its cheap metal legs, “I will crush it if I sit on it.”

Piotr was used to a lack of accommodations for his heavy metal form and massive size; however, he expected an event held and paid for by a billionaire to have a reinforced seat for him. Of course, he could metal down but his suit would not fit his slightly smaller form as well. He assumed that the workers that set up the event must have forgotten about a reinforced chair for him. If he remembered correctly, the Professor requested one for him and the people that were in charge of the event reassured him that there would be one.

“Ohhhh, I see what you mean,” Ellie said, tapping one of the chair legs with her foot. “Maybe one of the workers can get you the chair that the Professor requested.”

“I hope so,” Piotr nodded as he began to walk away from the table. “I will be right back.”

Piotr scanned the room for an available server while he did his best to carefully weave through the crowd of attendees that were trying to get to their own tables. Once he freed himself from the sea of tables and guests, James Levine walked up to the microphone with a welcoming smile. He tapped on it to grab everyone’s attention as they were sitting down.

“Hello and welcome everyone to the Drake Foundation Fundraising Gala,” The billionaire greeted, resting his hands on the podium. Piotr stopped his search to pay attention to Levine’s speech.

“I want to thank each and everyone of you for donating and helping us provide basic necessities and education for all mutants around the world,” Levine began as he looked down at the table where the Professor and NTW were sitting. “I especially want to thank Professor Xavier and his X-Men for making the world a better and safer place for everyone.”

The guests and workers began to clap while a few of them shouted their gratitude. Piotr winced when he saw Ellie shrink in her chair from receiving the guests’ attention while the Professor smiled at the attendees. He wished he didn’t leave the table so he could relieve Ellie’s anxiety. After earning an encouraging look from the Professor, Ellie attempted to put on a happy face but it looked more like a pained smile. Once the applause died down, Levine cleared his throat and began again.

“Before Professor Xavier comes up here, I would like to-”

Before he could finish the room went pitch black. The only source of light came through the skylight from the lit up buildings that surrounded the museum. Piotr could barely make out the silhouettes of the people sitting in front of him without squinting. The guests murmured anxiously among themselves as the guards began to quickly radio each other.

“Everyone calm down! I’m sure the emergency generator will kick in!” Levine yelled reassuringly.

Just as promised the generator kicked in seconds later, illuminating the large room enough for Piotr to distinguish the faces of the crowd. Some of the guests were calming down while others looked around the room nervously. Before Piotr could make his way back to Ellie and the Professor, he heard one of the security guards frantically speak into his radio behind him.

“Bill, what's your status?” There was a short pause before the guard used his walkie-talkie again. “Bill, do you copy?”

Piotr was holding on to the hope that it was a simple power outage but after hearing the distressed security guard Piotr started to think otherwise. He quickly turned around and saw the security guard hiding from the guests behind a pillar. The middle-aged man was pacing as he squeezed the radio in his hand. It was hard to see due to his thick gray mustache but he was frowning as he stared expectantly at his walkie-talkie.

“Is everything alright?” Piotr asked quietly to not alarm the guests.

The guard jumped before turning to face Piotr. Like most people, the guard had to crane his neck to look Piotr in the eye. With the guard facing him, Piotr noticed a small name tag on his vest that read, George.

George shook his head, “No, my guy in the security office isn’t responding. I was about to go check on him myself but I need to help my men in here to keep the guests calm.”

“The Professor and NTW can help them with that,” Piotr assured. “Take me to security office.”

George nodded and motioned Piotr to follow him. They walked to the otherside of the hall at a steady pace to not alert the guests of any possible danger while Levine tried to put them at ease. Before Piotr entered a closed off hallway with George, he noticed Ellie looking at him curiously.

“Professor,” Piotr said loud enough in his mind for the Professor to hear his thoughts clearly through the anxious ones from the guests.

“Piotr, is everything okay?” The Professor responded quickly in Piotr’s mind.

“Not sure. I am checking out the security office with guard,” Piotr informed. “Tell NTW to be ready in case civilians are in danger.”

“Understood.”

Once they were out of sight of the gala attendees, George and Piotr ran through the dimly lit halls. On their way to the security office, George explained that most of the emergency generator’s power was directed to keeping the museum’s security system online. However, someone could temporarily shut off the security system in any exhibit if they broke into the security office.

After running past a few blocked off exhibits filled with priceless artifacts, Piotr and George reached a door labeled, “Security Personnel Only,” at the end of a hallway. Piotr didn’t see any damage around the door that would alert him to a break in. George quickly pulled out a key card and pressed it against the scanner that was next to the door frame.

“Doesn’t look like someone broke in,” George said as the door unlocked with a click, “but someone could have swiped a key card from any of my guys.”

Piotr let out a heavy sigh as he stepped through the door, “Let us hope not.”

The door led into a short wide hallway that was barely lit due to what Piotr hoped to be a power malfunction. Attached to the ceiling were multiple cameras pointing at the entrance to the hallway and the security room. When his gaze fell on the office door, he quickly realized that whatever caused the power to go out was not a simple malfunction.

Someone broke in.

The metal door was slightly ajar and its handle was bent as if someone had kicked it open. When Piotr got closer to the door, he noticed that the door’s metal frame around the lock was damaged. Whoever kicked down the door was strong - very strong.

Piotr kept his guard up as he approached the door, not knowing if the intruder was still inside. Piotr slowly pushed it open while George stood behind him with his taser ready to fire. When the entire office was in view, the only person in the room was a man slouched over in a chair in the center of the floor.

“Oh my god, Bill!” George gasped as he ran to the unconscious guard.

The older guard knelt in front of Bill and lightly tapped his face to wake him up. The unconscious man was definitely younger and thinner than George. He sported a thick head of straw-like hair and light stubble on his face. Piotr noticed his skin swelling up around his eye, indicating that the intruder must have punched him to knock him out. After a few moments, a few painful grunts escaped Bill’s mouth before he slowly opened his eyes.

“Ow…” Bill groaned as he looked around the room in a dazed state.

“Bill, are you alright?” George asked worriedly. “Did you see who did this to you?”

Bill blinked a couple of times when his gaze landed on Piotr’s giant form. His face slowly contorted into a bewildered frown - obviously not used to seeing a giant man with metal skin - before he looked down at George.

“No…” Bill drawled as he gently rubbed his eye and winced, “the door was kicked open and everything went black.”

While George looked over Bill’s injuries, Piotr looked around the small office to see if he could figure out any information about the intruder. He was immediately drawn to the large electrical equipment that was setup across the room from the giant wall of security monitors. Against the wall was a large CPU (which was almost as big as Piotr) and another rectangular device that had various switches and a large keypad attached to it. Assuming it was the security system’s mainframe, Piotr scanned it for any foreign device that could have caused the power outage.

His metal fingers skimmed the sides of the mainframe when he couldn’t see anything out of ordinary on the front of the device. When his fingers bumped into a strange object, he grabbed it and pulled on it gently so he could identify it. The second he yanked the device off the panel, sparks flew as the power came back on.

“Finally! We can see!” George cheered, gazing at the powered lights.

Bill fortunately came out of his dazed state and started to reboot the camera system. While the guards worked on that, Piotr took a moment to study the device in his hand. It was obvious that the intruder used the device to hack into the security system and shut off the power. The circular device was about the size of a baseball and reminded him of a hockey puck. The top part was protected by a sleek dark metal that received finger-shaped dents from Piotr when he pulled it off. The bottom part of the device had four small drills that were used to attach itself to the mainframe and allow it to dismantle the security system. The device’s design was exceptional and that would be the only compliment he gave to the intruder.

“I found what caused power outage,” Piotr informed as he placed the device on the desk. “Any luck with security cameras?”

Judging by the fact that all of the monitors were still blank, it wasn’t looking good. Bill was underneath the desk trying to solve the problem with the power cables while George scanned the monitors to figure out how to turn them on. With an irritated huff, Bill slid out from under the desk and shook his head.

“We can’t turn them back on,” Bill sighed as he stood up. “Whatever that device did to our system seriously messed up the cameras.”

Bill’s brow furrowed inquisitively when he looked down at the desk. His gaze landed on a red lunch box (which Piotr assumed belonged to him) and picked it up. He pushed around its contents in search of something and dropped to look around his desk.

“Wait a minute,” Bill said quietly as he frantically searched the top of his desk for something. “My sandwich is gone!”

“And I think I know who took it,” George announced as he picked up a sticky note that was stuck to a computer screen and handed it to Piotr.

Sorry for eating your dinner!

It was delicious

- M ♡

Piotr stared at the note in disbelief as he read it aloud. He had seen odd notes before (mostly from Wade) but this one bugged him a little bit. Judging by the silent entrance, the clean knock out, and the power outage, the intruder - “M” - must have been a professional or at least an overconfident rookie. The note indicated that “M” had enough time on their hands to stay in the office and run off before Piotr arrived.

It was rather annoying.

“And we have no idea where they went,” George sneered. “They could be anywhere in this damn place!”

“I think I know,” Bill spoke up, peering at the sticky note in Piotr’s hands. “I think they wrote something on the back of that.”

Piotr quickly flipped over the slip of paper and immediately crushed it in his hand after he read it.

I’ll be waiting in the Devil’s Treasure exhibit.

Hit me with your best shot, Tin Can.

- M

“Tell your guards to evacuate museum,” Piotr tried to say calmly but the guards behind him could hear the hints of anger in his voice.

Piotr marched out of the room with purpose while carefully removing his tie and suit jacket. Piotr prided himself on being a calm and collected man but there was something about that note that irked him the wrong way. If M’s goal was to irritate him, it was working very well. Too good, in fact.

And Piotr hated it.

Piotr folded the jacket over his arm when he approached the door at the end of the hallway. He looked over his shoulder at the two guards, giving them a clear view of the scowl he was trying to hide.

“This may get messy.”

-----

When he sprinted into the museum's corridor, Piotr could barely hear George directing his men through his radio. Guards ran out of every room that he passed to head to the banquet hall to protect the guests. When he got closer to the gala, he could hear the echoes of the anxious voices of the guests. While he followed the signs to the diamond’s exhibit, he took out his phone to call Ellie and tell her to meet him there.

“Do not engage the intruder until I arrive,” Piotr instructed with a strict tone.

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t,” Ellie assured before hanging up.

By the time he arrived at the exhibit, all of the guests and staff were escorted outside by the security guards. There was a large crowd forming outside of the museum’s entrance which would only grow bigger once the police and reporters arrived.

Piotr was surprised he didn’t notice the entrance to the Devil’s Treasure exhibit when he first arrived at the gala. The exhibit was located on the top floor with its grand entrance in view of the banquet hall below him. Two large banners advertising the diamond hung next to the large doorway. In his defense, the gala’s stage directly below the exhibit’s entrance did take most of his attention.

Piotr was only a few paces away from entering the room when Ellie caught up with him. She also discarded her suit jacket and tie just like Piotr. (Although, he was sure that she threw them on the ground somewhere while he folded his jacket up and placed it on a nearby bench. He refused to go through the annoying process of getting fit for a suit again.)

“The guests have been evacuated,” Ellie informed in a quiet tone as she eyed the entrance to the exhibit. “Are you sure the intruder is in there?”

“I’m sure,” Piotr said as he handed her the crumbled up sticky note. She smoothed it out to read it as Piotr scanned the entrance for any signs of M. “Where is Professor?”

“Hiding in the entrance hall somewhere,” Ellie answered as she read the backside of the note. “He’s trying to find the thief telepathically but he’s not having any luck. He told me that they are blocking him somehow but he’s hoping to get a lock on them when we get them out in the open.”

Piotr tried to seem unfazed by the fact that M could block the Professor from their mind. Very few could do it successfully and even fewer could do it without the aid of an object. Piotr hoped that there was an object or device that the intruder had to block telepaths. If there wasn’t, he feared that Ellie and him were about to face off against a powerful telepath.

“Well, they seem cocky,” Ellie said after she read the back of the note.

“We will use that to our advantage,” Piotr declared as he stepped toward the exhibit’s entrance. “Come, let us meet this M.”

When Ellie and Piotr entered the room, he carefully looked over the cases of the untouched priceless jewels that lined the walls. He frowned when there was no sign of the thief but continued to keep his guard up. In the center of the room, a small case that rested on a marble pedestal was illuminated by tiny spotlights attached to the ceiling. Velvet rope and a wall of lasers protected the case from being opened but when Piotr inched closer he realized that security measures were not enough.

The Devil’s Treasure was gone.

“Damn it,” Ellie growled, earning a disapproving look from Piotr for her use of language. “The diamond is gone and that thief was too scared to put up a fight.”

“Oh, I promise you kid,” A voice called out behind them, “I will never run away from a good fight.”

Piotr and Ellie almost gave themselves whiplash when they quickly turned around to face the woman that stood at the exhibit’s entrance. Upon his first look of her, Piotr knew he was dealing with a professional judging by her expensive and intricate look. The pale woman was dressed in an all black skin-tight suit and trench coat that was buckled around her waist. The coat was zipped above her belt and had a high collar to cover her neck. A silk, scarlet scarf was wrapped loosely around her neck with both ends of it resting next to her knees behind her back.

If Piotr’s head wasn’t occupied with thoughts of her being a criminal, he would have been bewitched by thoughts of her beauty. Though the top half of her face was hidden by a black mask, soft strands of hair helped to accentuate her soft features. Her smooth and silky black hair was weaved into an elegant braid that ended just below her shoulder blades. A smooth metal that was decorated with small dark jewels wrapped around her ears. Her wide, confident grin that rested on her deep red lips and the mischievous glint in her dark brown eyes put Piotr on edge. He had seen the same look on Wade many times before but this was different…and somehow worse.

“Who are you?” Piotr demanded, stepping in front of Ellie defensively.

“Oh! How rude of me,” The woman chuckled as she did an unenthusiastic bow. Her British accent helped to carry the smoothness of her voice.

“I am Maya Durand,” She smiled cheekily as she straightened her posture. “Most know me as Europe’s most infamous thief.”

“Never heard of ya,” Ellie jeered, shooting a glare at the thief.

The grin on Maya’s face did not waver at Ellie’s remark. Instead, the woman simply rolled her eyes as she moved her gloved hand behind her back.

“Oh, you will now.”

Maya pulled her hand from behind her to reveal the deep red diamond that rested in her palm. With her arms in clear view, Piotr was able to see the silk ribbons wrapped tightly around her forearms.

“Give us the diamond or this will get messy,” Piotr warned.

Maya chuckled as she pulled out a small velvet case from the utility belt hidden beneath her coat. She carefully placed the diamond in the case and snapped it shut before placing it in her pocket.

At this point, Piotr did not have a clue what her powers were so he kept his guard up. His fears of her being a telepath melted away as he watched the bottom half of her coat wrap around her legs. The coat’s fabric disappeared as it seemed to fuse with the material covering her legs. Without the bulky coat, her thin yet muscular body was put on display.

“Oh, believe me, Colossus,” Maya spoke with a determined look, “I want this to get messy.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the ribbons wrapped around her sleeves unraveled and fell on the floor. Piotr and Ellie stared at the woman in disbelief. Was she seriously going to fight them - a man with metal skin and a teenager that can produce atomic blasts - with string?

“You’re seriously going to fight us with ribbons?” Ellie laughed, before nudging Piotr’s side with her elbow. “This is going to be easy.”

Piotr was about to say the same thing before he heard Maya snickering as she grabbed a short poll that was strapped against her thigh. The poll was wrapped with a braided black leather and was about as long as her forearm.

Before Piotr could calculate her next move, the ribbons on the ground began to spin around each other as they weaved into a thick rope. The smooth silk shifted into a rough and prickly material as the end of the rope connected to the tip of the poll which Piotr realized was a handle. Neither did Piotr or Ellie have time to react before Maya lashed out her whip at the teenager with a loud crack! Piotr barely had time to blink before the whip wrapped around Ellie’s leg. With an effortless tug, the teenager was thrown into the air and crashed into the hard marble wall.

“Negasonic!” Piotr shouted before hearing a faint groan from his trainee.

“What did you say about this being easy?” Maya quipped, looking over at the teenager. The tails of her scarf coiled around her body defensively when she brought her attention back to Piotr.

“Colossus, try to bring her into the banquet hall so I can freeze her,” The Professor instructed telepathically. “I may be able to break past her defenses when I’m close to her.”

“Understood.”

Without a second thought, Piotr charged at the thief to force her to jump to the lower level. Instead of running to the balcony like he hoped she would, Maya stood still as she stared him down tauntingly. The tails of her scarf swiftly wrapped around her chest defensively almost as if they were her form of armor. He reached his arms out to grab her but she immediately jumped over him when he got too close.

Piotr stumbled forward into the hallway and tried to regain his balance when he reached the balcony. Before he could, Maya flicked her whip around his ankles and pulled harshly. The giant man fell to the ground with a loud bang from his metal form. Piotr clenched his fists and snarled when he heard Maya’s mocking laughter.

“When my employer warned me that an X-Man was going to be here, I thought I was going to have a challenge,” Maya taunted before looking down at Piotr with a displeased look on her face. Piotr slowly got on his knees and waited for her to get close enough to him.

“Needless to say, I’m disappointed.”

“That is enough!” Piotr roared as he grabbed her arm and threw her over the balcony’s ledge.

Maya screamed, not having enough time to react to Piotr’s sudden move and crashed into the stage below him. Ellie came running out of the exhibit - presumably unharmed by Maya’s attack - as Piotr stood up. Deciding that taking the stairs would take too long, he jumped over the ledge and landed in front of the stage.

(Piotr knew if Wade was present he would have made a comment about his superhero landing. Probably would have rated it too.)

“Still disappointed?” Piotr called out humorlessly as he watched Maya slowly climbed out of the hole she made in the stage.

Maya brushed the wooden debris from the stage off of her shoulder - sending Piotr a glare in the process. With a flick of her hand, her whip came rushing to her from the exhibit above them (she must have dropped it when Piotr threw her). Instead of lashing out with it, Maya used her powers to wrap the rope around her waist and slid the handle back into the holster on her thigh.

“A little less now,” Maya admitted, spreading out her arms as the long strand of silk around her chest unraveled.

The material responded to every move she made with her hands. Piotr watched curiously as the cloth seemed to grow longer as her fingers ran against it. She made fluid motions with her hands as the fabric spun around her body defensively. Her movements reminded him of the water benders from Avatar: The Last Airbender (he watched the show when he was learning English).

With a snapping motion of her hand, the silk quickly wrapped itself around Piotr’s arm and pulled him to the ground. He let out a surprised yelp as he slammed into the marble floor. In a fatal attempt to remove the material, Piotr used his free hand to grab it and rip it off. Before he could, Maya spun in the air and flicked her wrist outwards. Following the motions of her hands, the silk threw Piotr across the room into the sea of tables.

“You’re heavier than you look!” Maya teased trying to hide the fact that she was out of breath.

Piotr groaned as he stood up from the table that he broke in half and took a moment to take in how far she threw him. He landed at the very edge of the cluster of tables which was at least thirty feet from the stage. It wasn’t an easy feat either since he was incredibly heavy in his armored form.

“Bozhe moi, how strong is her fabric? How strong is she?”

Maya didn’t waste any time for her next move when Piotr was back on his feet. As she slowly made her way to him, she used her long strand of fabric to grab anything and threw it at him. The first item was a glass vase from a nearby table which held a bouquet of flowers. Piotr was unphased when it collided with his head. In his metal form, it felt as if he was hit by a beach ball.

When Maya realized he was unharmed, she decided to throw a chair at him instead - which Piotr simply blocked with his arm. The chair crumbled as it slammed into Piotr. Before he could make a witty remark, Maya sprinted to him with her line of silk surrounding her body.

With swift whipping movements of her arms, the silk repeatedly battered against Piotr. Piotr was pushed back with every lash against his raised arms. He was surprised that his metal skin burned after every hit. Growing bold, Maya released an aggravated roar as she leapt into the air with her trail of silk ready to lash out. Upon instinct, Piotr swung his arm and backhanded her, landing a direct hit on her ribcage.

The excessive force of his swing threw Maya into one of the pillars. He was horrified with himself as he watched her body slam into the ground. He shouldn’t have hit her that hard. What was he thinking? He didn’t know the extent of her powers and he could have seriously hurt her. He could have killed-

Laughing.

Maya Durand was laughing.

She slowly got to her knees, revealing the silk wrapped protectively around her vibrating chest. Piotr was amazed by her fast reflexes. She must have wrapped the silk around her before he struck her side. If Hank was with him Piotr knew he would have been asking Maya about the properties and strength of her fabric. Piotr was curious about it too but he could wait to question her when she was behind bars.

“You almost had me there, Tin Can,” Maya chuckled as she began to stand up. Her hand massaged the spot where he hit her, indicating that her fabric did not completely protect her.

Before she could stand up completely, Professor X came out from behind the pillar with his hand reaching out to grab her. Piotr thought the Professor would have succeeded until he saw the grin on Maya’s face fall. With lightning fast reflexes, Maya spun around with her whip unraveling from around her waist. She shot out her hands, directing the rope wrap around the Professor’s outstretched arm and then his neck. With a sneer, Maya gripped the whip’s handle and yanked it down, hard.

“Word of warning, Professor,” Maya growled with venom as the older man started to choke. “I do not like telepaths.”

Before Maya could harm the Professor further, Ellie ran out from the hallway behind them and tackled the thief to the ground. With a vicious yell, Maya kicked the teen off of her and jumped to her feet. She spun to the Professor, shooting out her hand and rotated her wrist. In a flash the rope unraveled around the Professor’s neck allowing him to breathe once more before the material grew. It quickly tied the Professor’s arms down to his wheelchair and kept his hands in place so he couldn’t move.

“Trust me, Professor,” Maya seethed, glaring at him, “you do not want to be inside of my head.”

Maya turned away from the Professor to face Piotr and Ellie. In a matter of seconds, her frown melted away as if nothing had happened. She released an exasperated sigh before reaching into her pockets.

“Now, this has been fun but I’m afraid I must go -” She froze when her hand reached the bottom of her pocket. Her eyes widened as she frantically patted herself down. “Where did I put that bloody diamond?”

“Looking for this?” Ellie called out, holding the velvet case in clear view.

Maya's scowl only lasted for a moment before her signature grin formed on her lips again. She almost seemed impressed by the teenager’s skill.

“Good grab, kid, but that diamond is mine,” Maya snarled as she stepped closer to the teenager. “Give. It. Back.”

Ellie stood ready to defend herself once she slid the case into her pocket. Before Maya could make a move for the case, Piotr stood in front of his trainee protectively.

“Negasonic, run,” Piotr ordered, glancing back at her. When she didn’t budge, he looked back at her again sternly. “Now.”

Once she heard his serious tone, she ran off to the entrance of the museum. Before Maya could go after her, Piotr swiftly grabbed her arm and threw her to the opposite end of the room.

Instead of crashing into the stage like he expected, Maya flipped her body around in mid-air and landed gracefully on her feet. When she stood up, the mischievous glint in her eyes was gone and was replaced by a fierce look of determination. He expected her to unravel the silk around her chest or at least form her whip again. Instead, she jumped off the stage with her hands outstretched as she sprinted to Piotr.

Her fingertips grazed each table cloth in her reach as she charged at Piotr. Fearing that she was making an attempt to pass him, he darted his hand out to grab her but she quickly dodged his grasp by jumping to the side. She landed on the table beside him and crouched down to touch the cloth beneath her with her finger tips. He slammed his fist against the edge of the table to catapult her off of it but she swiftly jumped over him.

Piotr spun around after crushing the table to make another attempt to grab her. He expected her to take a swing at him with her fabric but she was waiting for his move. It bothered Piotr for a second knowing that she was fast enough to strike him but didn’t take the chance.

With olympic acrobatic skill, she consecutively dodged his attacks by jumping between the tables. After one of his futile attempts to capture her, Piotr got lucky and managed to grab her arm and throw her across the room.

Maya landed on the cold marble floor with a loud thud. The thief groaned as she tried to pull herself up but her shaky arms wouldn’t let her. She hissed in pain when she managed to get on one knee as Piotr got closer to her.

“Yield,” Piotr commanded, staring down at her, “you have been beaten.”

Piotr stopped in his tracks when he heard a chuckle escape her lips.

“Is that what you think?”

Maya dropped her act and quickly stood up with her hands outstretched. Her grin once again formed on her face as Piotr watched her in disbelief.

“You’re the one that has been beaten, Tin Can.”

Maya threw her hands in front of her and raised them up. Piotr looked behind him and watched as the bouquet vases and dinner plates shattered on the ground as every single table cloth took to the air. He snapped his head back at Maya in shock.

“Did you forget that I can control any fabric that I touch?” Maya asked cheekily.

Piotr’s stomach dropped when he realized he fell for her trap. She was deliberately dodging him so she could touch every table cloth. He shouldn’t have underestimated her abilities and now he was paying the price.

Without another word, Maya pulled the fabric to her with a snapping motion. The cloths flew past Piotr at high speeds, disorienting him in the process as they spun around Maya like a tornado. Piotr watched as the tablecloths melted together to create one long train of fabric. With a flick of her wrist, the rough fabric turned into a scarlet silk that was similar to material wrapped around her chest. The finished product coiled around Maya as if it was a living serpent.

Piotr didn’t have a chance to defend himself when a piece of the cloth lunged at him. Within seconds the smooth fabric wrapped around his hand and yanked his arm up as Maya directed the end of it to fasten around a pillar. With a simple thrust of her hand, another piece of silk tied around Piotr’s free arm and bound him to another pillar. A startled yelp escaped him when strands of silk wrapped around his legs and yanked him down on his knees. The numerous silk ribbons dug beneath the marble tile and chained him to the piping beneath the floor. For the finishing touch, Maya flicked her wrist and used her power to wrap around the bottom of his head to cover his mouth.

Piotr’s growls were muffled by the fabric as he tugged at the silk to break free. Maya snickered at his vain attempts to free himself which only angered him more. If it was normal fabric he would have been able to tear it but the silk tied to him was strong as steel!

“I would stop trying to break free if I were you,” Maya advised as motioned to the pillars he was bound to. “You may accidentally take the place down and I know the needles destruction of property isn’t a good look for superheroes.”

Piotr seethed as he glared at her through knitted brows. He stopped pulling on his restraints with an aggravated huff knowing that she was right. If the building collapsed he knew the press would have a field day criticizing the X-Men and all mutants.

Piotr was thankful that Wade wasn’t there to witness his situation. He would never hear the end of it from the mercenary. He reminded himself that she did lose to him in the end - she didn’t have the diamond!

“Oh, by the way,” Maya said with a smirk as she flicked her wrist to reveal the red jewel in her palm, “I had the diamond the entire time.”

Piotr’s blood boiled with outrage as the thief gazed longingly at the diamond. As if she was a trained magician, she flicked her wrist again to make the jewel disappear.

“I’m a great actress don’t you think?”

When she looked back at Piotr’s enraged state, she laughed as she swung her arm around his neck and pulled out her phone.

“Stay put, I need to save the look on your face,” Maya joked as she pulled up the camera app to take a selfie. “Get it? Because you can’t move at all.”

Piotr simply glared at her in response.

“Oh, you’re no fun, Tin Man!” Maya said humorlessly before pressing her cheek against Piotr’s and raising her phone. “Smile!”

Once she took the photo, she detached herself from Piotr and examined the picture. When she slid her phone back into its pocket with a satisfied smile, she spun herself around while waving her hand in the air. Once she steadied herself, her trench coat was once again covering her with her silk scarf wrapped loosely around her neck.

“This has been fun but I must deliver the diamond to my employer so I can get paid,” Maya said, bending down to grasp Piotr’s chin.

She tapped his metal skin with her thumb before letting him go with a satisfied hum. She swayed her hips as she stepped directly underneath the skylight. She extended her hand to the ceiling, shooting out a strand of ribbon that attached itself to the edge of the window. The ribbon quickly pulled herself up to the glass which allowed her to push the window open. Once she was through, she glanced back at Piotr and waved.

“See you next time, Tin Can!”

Piotr grumbled as he watched Maya run off with the diamond. Moments later, Ellie came running into the room cussing about the stolen jewel. Piotr ignored her vulgar words and drowned out the noise of the police cars and reporters that gathered outside the museum’s entrance with his thoughts.

He allowed his overconfidence to get the better of him and his trainee and was publicly humiliated. Even worse, Maya Durand harmed the Professor under his watch. And he was defeated by a woman who controlled fabric. Fabric! He was never going to hear the end of it when he returned to the institute.

Piotr looked up at the skylight where Maya escaped, eyeing the strand of ribbon that she left behind. She wasn’t going to best him again or anyone else for that matter.

Because he was going to take her down.

-----

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insomniac-dot-ink · 4 years ago

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Hey! A new wlw short story is up on my Patreon. Check it out! And please consider becoming a Patron for more wlw writing and more. As a struggling artist anything helps.

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Headlights Girl

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the land, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they shrank away from my gaze deep into their cages into the nooks and crannies. Most things do.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness and sleep. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There have been stranger kids born in the age of spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for small articles and mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy with fire on his breath. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father calls it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He doesn’t look at me much. And I know what he means. I know what he means when he calls it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. They could barely afford to send me to That School. I didn’t want to be there either.

We weren’t the same, not really. None of us are the same age and most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons under flat mattresses. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or have a pig-nose or blackhole for a nose. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he runs away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I’m 16 when I heel-toe my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with a collection of loose clothes, change, a bath towel, sewing kit, a bible written in a language I don’t speak, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he’s at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at Target and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There’s a beer in front of his idle hands and he glances at the bag on my shoulder.

He sighs like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafs through a wad of cash he kept in a safe in the garage. He hands me almost three hundred bucks and we nod at each other. I’m out the door before the midnight bus arrives.

I watch the headlights of the bus approach through dense summer night and think it must be like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I get on the bus and kick my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, I cross my arms over my chest, and watch the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet move like tides. They toss me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I taste the painted deserts toward the west. I dip my toes into the largest cities with lights brighter than my own. I graze my palms on neon signs and hunch my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touches me. They don’t come close enough when I open my eyes and they see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that will smite them.

I find my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gather. I don’t talk much, I don’t like to, and people stare at me whether I’m speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it aches. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’ve never seen a movie in any theatres, but I can imagine what it’s like.

I like the ocean cities best with their pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding white paths, and crushed seashell parking lots. I like the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkles from the ocean water as it sun-dries. I camp out on beaches and bum cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I’m good at taking care of myself once I get in a rhythm.

Sometimes, or often, I dream of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dream of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I am weighted down through the cold to where no human has ever been before. I open my eyes there, I open them all the way, lightning-bright, and in my dreams, the salt doesn’t sting. It doesn’t hurt, instead, I light up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I do something good then. Maybe I do something good and bring the sun to places that have forgotten it.

I meet Mags on the beach. She’s got one eye and five teeth and carries around string and scissors everywhere. She smells like seawater and roasting kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes are neat despite her leather-cracked skin and her arms and neck are covered with tattoos of shipwrecks. She cackles and pulls me aside the first night we meet.

“What’s your name?” Her voice is old creaking wood. I am quiet. “I could give you one.” She offers with a grin that is more empty space than anything.

I shake my head. “Nana.”

“What do you like, kid?”

I shake my head again.

Mags likes me more than I deserve. I pocket her last pair of socks when she’s not looking. She never mentions it and drags me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She takes me to the soup restaurant for something that isn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackles, she spits when she talks, people glare at her as well.

I think she’s normal, not touched by the spirits, but she likes me more than most people and I don’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snort. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snap.

“Lippy-wild thing. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heats the needle before she uses it, red hot and untouchable. She dips it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she calls them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin with color and movement. She shows me on her right foot first, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It takes her six hours to make a little shipwreck right above her big toe. It’s a schooner going under and I’m the only witness to the way she makes the waves come to life and crash against its sides. I can’t look away and I forget to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washes another needle. She heats it red-hot. She dips it in ink and hands it to me.

I practice all over my thighs first, there’s enough meat there and it’s easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looks like nothing but squiggles, a wobbly stick figure on a skateboard, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practice designs in the sand. Mags takes me to the museum on Sundays. They’re free on Sundays.

Something stirs in my chest, even as the guards yell at me about how flash photography isn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I’m shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rots roars to life in my chest.

I stab in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake next, and then finally, something good, something that gives people a reason to stare. I make it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than the others.

I don’t want to leave the ocean city. Mags says she has to keep moving though. She gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackles. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winks as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I want to make her pinky-promise like I’m a kid again and begging one of the other kids to tell me if I’m actually beautiful when I close my eyes. I can’t do that; I wave as she totters up the steps of the bus and is taken away with the tides of her own feet. ------------ I get an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked to them first and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but coach surfing and camping out on beaches is a tiring pastime. Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie run a tattoo shop together. Davies walks like he’s never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie has a throw-pillow that says “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies is nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie has topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’s been asked to leave a number of stores before the children start staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me, it’s not that type of town. I rankle at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. I brush off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie calls me “Shadow” and I think it’s a joke. Davies says I must be possessed by the ghost of a dead star and now I’m nothing but a blackhole: take everything in and let nothing out.

Neither of them lets me touch a needle in those first six months. They have me practice on pig skin and stand by their shoulder as they work. I feel like a dental assistant except I’m the hanging light above shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stand at their shoulder as they draw thick lines and thin dots and make hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They ask me to stop blinking and stand still. I almost walk out and find a new cliff to crash against, almost. No one had ever expected me to show up to something before. No one cared if I went to school or when I got home. And no one kept any tabs on me after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, it didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow.” She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I am eloquent in the morning.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want the desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

I grumble. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before. I tell myself I’ll just try it out, no harm in having a bit of a savings anyway. No harm in seeing what the fuss was about.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with my eyes. I don’t let up though. I put on pants for this, after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder now.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, he had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me now as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “The line’s barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” He chuckled darkly. His grin is crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.

“Look at you go. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun before the new year. I tell myself I’ll only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I don’t have to actually stay. I’ll just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chases after girls with eyes that glow.

I don’t break my lease. I draw cartoon heroes in speedos on tipsy college girls who swear they’re sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I have to give two refunds for a duck that turns out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with nothing but doors ahead of her. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I’m best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It’s dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hide my smile when she goes to my bosses and points at it while jumping up and down. The best thing she’s ever seen. She should pay us double. Where did you get this girl? I try not to blink so they can’t see the wetness under my eyes.

Sometimes I still stand by the bus stop to check who’s coming off. I don’t expect to see Mags again so soon, but sometimes I want to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

🌸Check out my Patreon for the full story! 🌸

#wlw #urban fantasy #writing #found family #sapphic #short story #femslash #writers on tumblr #writeblr #magical realism #patreon #my work #long post #long post cw

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westerosoliviapope · 3 years ago

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Modern Maiden sat down with the spice heiress and newlywed to discuss her whirlwind romance with Willas Tyrell, becoming a "bonus mom," and bringing a worldly flair to The Reach's art scene with her new gallery.

On How She Met Willas The art enthusiasts met at an auction in King's Landing after Kojja outbid him on a painting. "It was a spirited contest toward the end," she recalls with a chuckle. "I was in an aggressive mood. But being a good sport, he insisted on congratulating me face-to-face." What drew her to him? "His openness and curiosity. People who move in art circles love to impress you with their knowledge. Willas was far more interested in my passion for art than proving how learned he was."

On Relocating to Westeros It wasn't a true relocation — she's had an apartment in King's Landing since she was 19, but Kojja admits to being taken with The Reach's unique charms. "More than any other region of Westeros, they've retained a sense of tradition and ritual that's quite lovely."

On Being a "Bonus Mom" "I was raised with the idea that children have agency, so I'm intentional about letting them [Gwayne (8) and Ellyn (6)] define my place in their lives. After all, they have a mother. Their father fell in love with me — they didn't, so I want to give them the time and space they need to determine where I fit."

On Bringing Her Artistic Sensibilities to The Reach "Oldtown has some of the best museums on the continent. I'd like to complement that with a contemporary space in Garden City that features more modern, diverse, and up-and-coming artists — much like my gallery in King's Landing."

On Marrying Into Westerosi Political RoyaltyComing from a well-known family [The Mo Spice Company is one of the largest spice brands in the world], Kojja is no stranger to societal expectations. "I've always understood what it means to carry my family's name wherever I go. I'll be as careful with the Tyrell legacy as I am with my own. And you know, we [the Summer Isles] have a rich history of women in leadership, so it's quite lovely to count Westeros's first female Prime Minister [Olenna Tyrell] as a relative."

#kojja mo #modern asoiaf au #modern westeros #the reach #house tyrell #willas tyrell #modern willas tyrell #asoiaf modern au #summer isles asoiaf #scandal westeros magazines

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gypsealife · 4 years ago

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What to do in New Orleans

Do you want to go to New Orleans but aren't sure where to begin? I'll tell you about some of the top things to see in New Orleans in this article (Louisiana). NOLA, or The Big Easy as its residents refer to it, is known around the world as the metropolis of jazz, Creole cuisine, and a distinct dialect.

New Orleans, located in southeastern Louisiana, is described as beautiful, colorful, relaxing, and fun.

It is a city of French and Spanish ancestry with strong African-American characteristics, exhibiting American pluralism via architecture, music, and cuisine.

Since President Thomas Jefferson purchased New Orleans for $15 million from Napoleon Bonaparte, it has been a great American rare.

Immersing yourself in its French Quarter is like stepping back in time to the 18th century, while also taking in the cultural distinctives that have been added during the 19th and 20th centuries to create this the country's most eclectic city.

Due to its origins on the banks of the famous Mississippi River, it has a large ethnic, cultural, and religious diversity, as well as one of the most important musical diversity in the United States. It is a melting pot of cultures, including French, Spanish, African, Latin, and Caribbean, and as a result, the majority of its residents are of African heritage.

1. Go to New Orleans' French Quarter.

Bourbon Street is located in the center of New Orleans' French Quarter.

The French Quarter is unquestionably the crown jewel and thus one of New Orleans' must-see attractions. It covers around 13 blocks from Canal Street to Esplanade Avenue and is known among its residents as "The Vieux Carre" or simply "French Quarter." Bourbon Street, studded with restaurants, cafes, bars, and strip clubs, is one of the city's most popular and busiest streets.

Visit James Square, one of the city's most prominent squares, which is located along the Mississippi River. You can see the gorgeous St. Louis Cathedral from here, or take a rest in the famous Café du Monde, which was built in 1896.

2. Show your support for the New Orleans Saints.

Of course, we can't ignore the most popular sport in the United States, American soccer. This sport is extremely popular in Louisiana, particularly in New Orleans. The New Orleans Saints, 2011 Superbowl champions, and their home stadium, the stunning Mercedes-Benz Superdome, are based in New Orleans. The team is well-liked and respected by the locals because they exemplify the principles of hard work, tenacity, and never giving up in the face of adversity.

These qualities also represent this metropolis, particularly when Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005 and wreaked havoc on the city. After winning the Super Bowl, the team's fans elevated them to the status of heroes.

3. Get to know New Orleans by riding the streetcars.

Streetcars in New Orleans

Another thing I recommend doing in New Orleans is taking the streetcars to get a feel for the city. These fantastic electric streetcars date back to the 1600s and provide lovely excursions in buildings that are still in use today.

There are currently four primary lines that provide tours of some of New Orleans' most popular and noteworthy attractions. You'll be able to see the Mississippi River from angles you've never seen before on one of these tours.

4. Louis Armstrong Park and Congo Square

Congo Square is a historically significant square. New Orleans was the only city in the northern United States that allowed slaves to meet in public and play their native music during the French colonial era, when slaves were transported.

On Sundays, their one day off, they met in Congo Square to do so. Today, it is part of Louis Armstrong Park, which was once known as "La Place des Negres" by the settlers, where they sang, played music, and sold homemade cuisine. As a result, it may be stated that in the early twentieth century, Congo Square gave birth to an era's worth of indigenous music: Jazz.

5. Treat your ears to some music at Preservation Hall.

New Orleans' Preservation Hall is a jazz venue.

The Preservation Hall, located on St. Peter Street in the center of the French Quarter, is a historic location where you can enjoy acoustic jazz music in an intimate setting practically every day of the year. Every day, the facility has a cast of more than 50 local musicians who perform in various formats.

If you come in on any given night, you'll be treated to the sight and sound of local and resident musicians improvising great tunes. If you appreciate this type of music, New Orleans holds one of the country's largest jazz events, the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, which takes place every year.

6. Historic Voodoo Museum in New Orleans

New Orleans was the core of the slave trade and commerce in the United States before the abolition of slavery in the 18th century. During this period, the slaves' cultural and religious traditions, which originated mostly in Africa and Haiti, were assimilated into the metropolis. Voodoo was one of the city's most enduring traditions.

After centuries, the city of New Orleans established the New Orleans Historic Vodoo Museum, which is solely committed to educate people about African culture and religion. Throughout history, ritual books and voodoo dolls or amulets have been found here.

7. Take a walk in City Park in New Orelans to get some fresh air.

City Park, one of the city's main green lungs, situated roughly 3 miles northwest of the French Quarter. With a total area of 5.3 square kilometers, you can breathe fresh air while exploring centuries-old oak forests, walking routes, biking paths, lakes, picnic places, and more. The New Orleans Museum of Art, as well as the Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, a garden full of free sculptures and the New Orleans Botanical Garden, are all located inside the park's borders.

The park also features two stadiums, golf courses, rugby and soccer grounds, and hosts a variety of events throughout the year, including weddings and the Vodoo Music + Arts Experience, which is the largest music festival in the world.

8. The New Orleans Museum of Art is number eight on the list.

If you enjoy art, the New Orleans Museum of Art - NOMA - is a must-see in New Orleans. The museum, which is located within the magnificent City Park, has an extensive art collection of 40,000 items covering 5,000 years of history, as well as a sculpture garden in City Park that is open to the public for free.

Hours:

Monday was a holiday.

From 10:00 a.m. until 18:00 p.m., Tuesday through Friday.

Saturday from 10:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m.

Sunday from 11:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m.

Price:

Adults are charged $15.

Students at universities pay $8.

Admission is free for those aged 19 and younger.

9. Oak Alley Plantation is number nine on the list.

Oak Alley Plantation's Avenue of Oaks

Nearly a dozen old plantations with gorgeous houses and exquisite gardens can be found about 50 miles west of Downtown, along the Mississippi River. Whitney Plantation, Laura Plantation, and Felicity Plantation are a few examples. A visit to Oak Alley Plantation is highly recommended.

You'll need at least 2 hours to absorb 200 years of history and tour all of the properties of this old sugar plantation, when roughly a hundred slaves worked between the field and the house as men, women, and children.

Schedule:

Monday through Saturday, 9:00 a.m. to 17:00 p.m.

Price:

Adults are charged $25.

$10 for youth (13-18 years old).

$7 for children aged 6 to 12.

Admission is free for children under the age of five.

10. Take a Mississippi River cruise

I urge that you see New Orleans from a different vantage point. Get to know it by taking a trip down the Mississippi River on the Natchez, Louisiana's most famous steamboat. It would be nearly difficult to truly appreciate New Orleans without traveling down the Mississippi and aboard the Natchez.

You will not only go through the entire city of New Orleans on this expedition, but you will also travel through the states of Kentucky and Missouri, among others. Aboard this lovely old ship, you will have a wonderful time. Don't miss out on wonderful meals and fantastic musical performances!

11. Enjoy a meal at the historic Commander's Palace.

Commander's Place Restaurant in the Garden District of New Orleans

The remarkable ethnic mix of New Orleans is reflected not just in religion and music, but also in the food. The most popular cuisine in the city is "Cajun," which combines classic, rustic French cuisine with regional products and influences.

The legendary Commander's Place restaurant is located in the Garden District, surrounded by lovely and historic colonial farmhouses. I recommend stopping by to get a feel for the area and sample some Creole cuisine.

The National WWII Museum is number 12 on the list.

New Orleans is home to the acclaimed National WWII Museum, which opened in 2000. This museum is a must-see for history buffs who want to learn everything there is to know about WWII.

You can also accomplish it using interactive artefacts and artifacts from the historical period. It is, without a doubt, an attraction not to be missed.

#what to do in new orleans #new orleans

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years ago

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How the Sacklers rigged the game

Two quotes to ponder as you read “Purdue’s Poison Pill,” Adam Levitin’s forthcoming Texas Law Review paper:

“Some will rob you with a six-gun, And some with a fountain pen.” (W. Guthrie)

“Behind every great fortune there is a great crime.” (H. Balzac) (paraphrase)

Some background. Purdue was/is the pharmaceutical company that deliberately kickstarted the opioid crisis by deceptive, aggressive marketing of its drug Oxycontin, amassing a fortune so vast that it made its owners, the Sackler family, richer than the Rockefellers.

Many companies are implicated in the opioid crisis, but Purdue played a larger and more singular role in an epidemic that has killed more Americans than the Vietnam war: Purdue, alone among the pharma companies, is almost exclusively devoted to selling opioids.

And Purdue is also uniquely associated with a single family, the Sacklers, whose family dynasty betrays a multigenerational genius for innovating in crime and sleaze.

The founder of the family fortune, Arthur Sackler, invented modern drug marketing with his campaigns for benzos like Valium, kickstarting an addiction crisis that burned for decades and is still with us today.

His kids, while not inventing the art of reputation laundering through elite philanthropy, did more to advance this practice than anyone since the robber barons whose names grace institutions like Carnegie-Mellon University.

The Sackler name became synonymous not with the cynical creation of a mass death drug epidemic and a media strategy that blamed the victims as “criminal addicts” — rather, “Sackler” was associated with museums from the Met to the Louvre.

Handing out crumbs from their vast trove of blood-money was just one half of the Sacklers’ reputation-laundering. The other half used a phalanx of vicious attack-lawyers who’d threaten anyone who criticized them in public (I personally got one of these).

The Sacklers could not have attained their high body count nor their vast bank-balances without the help of elite legal enablers, both the specialists from discreet boutique firms and the rank-and-file of the great white-shoe firms.

I’m not one to take cheap shots at lawyers. Lawyers are often superheroes, defending the powerless against the powerful. But the law has a bullying problem, a sadistic cadre of brilliant people who live to crush their opponents.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/10/duke-sucks/#devils

To see the sadism at work, look no further than the K-shaped world of bankruptcy: for the wealthy, bankruptcy is the sport of kings, a way to skip out on consequences. For the poor, bankruptcy is an anchor — or a noose.

When working people are saddled with debts — even debts they did not themselves amass — they are hounded by petty, vindictive monsters who deluge them with calls and emails and threats.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

But it’s very different for the wealthy. Community Hospital Systems is one of the largest hospital chains in America, thanks to the $7.6b worth of debt it acquired along with 80+ hospitals, which it is running into the ground.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/18/unhealthy-balance-sheet/#health-usury

CHS raked in hundreds of millions in interest-free forgivable loans, stimulus and other public subsidies and paid out millions from that to its execs for “performance bonuses.”

It also leads the industry in suing its indigent patients, some for as little as $201.

Debt and bankruptcy are key to private equity’s playbook, especially the most destructive forms of financial engineering, like “club deal” leveraged buyouts that turn productive businesses into bankrupt husks while the PE firms pocket billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

For mere mortals — those of us who can’t afford to hire legal enablers to work the system — bankruptcy is a mystery. If you know someone who went bankrupt, chances are they had their lives destroyed. How can bankruptcy be a gift, rather than a curse?

Purdue Pharma presents a maddening case-study in the corrupt benefits of bankruptcy. When it was announced in March, many were outraged to learn that the Sacklers were going to walk away with billions, while their victims got stiffed.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/31/vaccine-for-the-global-south/#claims-extinguished

Levitin’s paper uses the Purdue bankruptcy as a jumping-off point to explain how this can be — how corporate bankruptcy “megacases” have become a sham that subverts the very purpose of bankruptcy: to allow orderly payments to creditors while preserving good businesses.

Levitin identifies three pathologies corrupting the US bankruptcy system.

First is “coercive restructuring techniques” that allow debtors and senior creditors to tie bankruptcy judges’ hands and those of other creditors, overriding bankruptcy law itself.

These techniques — “DIP financing agreements,” “Stalking Horse bidder protections,” “Hurry-up agreements,” etc — are esoteric, though Levitin does a good job of explaining each.

More significant than their underlying rules is their effect.

That effect? Thousands of Oxy survivors and families of Oxycontin victims lost their right to sue the Sacklers and Purdue pharma because of these techniques. In return, the Sacklers surrendered about a third of the billions they reaped.

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-purduepharma-bankruptcy/sacklers-reaped-up-to-13-billion-from-oxycontin-maker-u-s-states-say-idUSKBN1WJ19V

Depriving the victims of the Sacklers’ drug empire of the right to sue doesn’t just leave the Sacklers with billions; it also means that no official record will be produced detailing the Sacklers’ complicity in hundreds of thousands of deaths.

Levitin: “The single most important question in the most socially important chapter 11 case in history will be determined through a process that does not comport with basic notions of due process.”

The Sacklers are not unique beneficiaries of “coercive restructuring techniques.” The rise of “prepack” and 24-hour “drive through” bankruptcies have turned judges into rubberstampers of private agreements between debtors and their cronies, with no look-in for victims.

It in these proceedings that the law descends into self-parody, more Marx Brothers than casebook. Levitin highlights the Feb ’21 “drive-through” bankruptcy of Belk Department Stores, where the judge was told that failing to accede to the private deal would risk 17,000 jobs.

The trustees representing Belk’s non-crony creditors were railroaded through this “agreement,” upon notice consisting of an “unintelligible” one-page, one-paragraph release opening with “a 630-word sentence with 92commas and five parentheticals.”

Sackler lawyers were geniuses at this game, securing judicial approval of a deal where the Sacklers’ personal liability to the Feds went from $4.5b to $225m. The judge heard no evidence about whether the Sacklers’ voluntary payout was even close to their liabilities.

The corruption of bankruptcy is bad enough, as the creditors for finance criminals are often small firms and workers’ pension.

The Sacklers’ case is far worse: they don’t owe billions in unpaid loans — they owe criminal and civil liability for the lives they destroyed.

The next area of corruption that Levitin takes up is the inadequacy of the appeals process for bankruptcy settlements. This, too, is complex, but it has a simple outcome: once a judge agrees to a settlement, it’s virtually impossible to appeal it.

In those rare instances where people do win appeals, they are still denied justice, because the appellate courts typically find that it’s too late to remedy the lower courts’ decisions.

That makes the business of “coercive restructuring techniques” (in which judges rubber-stamp corrupt arrangements between debtors and their cronies) even more important, since any ruling from a bankruptcy judge is apt to be final.

The third and most important corrupt element of elite bankruptcy that Levitin describes is the ability for debtors’ lawyers to pick which judge will rule on their case, a phenomena that means that only three judges hear nearly every major bankruptcy case in America.

“[In 2020] 39% of large public company bankruptcy filings ended up before Judge David Jones in Houston. 57% of the large company cases ended up before either Jones or two other judges, Marvin Isgur in Houston and Robert Drain in White Plains.”

https://www.creditslips.org/creditslips/2021/05/judge-shopping-in-bankruptcy.html

In other words, elite law firms have figured out how to “hack” the bankruptcy process so they can choose from among three judges. And these three judges weren’t picked at random — rather, they competed to bring these “megacases” to their courts.

This competition is visible in how these judges rule — in ways that are favorable to cronyistic arrangements between debtors and their favored, deep-pocketed creditors — and in the public statements the judges themselves have made, going on the record admitting it.

Levitin cites the groundbreaking work of Harvard/UCLA law prof Lynn LoPucki on why judges want to dominate bankruptcy megacases. LoPucki points out hearing these cases definitely increases “post-judicial employment opportunities” — but says the true motives are more complex.

Levitin, summarizing LoPucki: “[it’s more] in the nature of personal aggrandizement and celebrity and ability to indirectly channel to the local bankruptcy bar.. The judge is the star and the ringmaster of a megacase — very appealing to certain personalities”

Obviously, not every judge wants these things, but the ones that do are of a type — “willing and eager to cater to debtors to attract business…[an] assurance to debtors that…these judges will not transfer out cases with improper venue or rule against the debtor…”

Forum-shopping in bankruptcy is not new, but it has accelerated and mutated.

Once, the game was to transfer cases to Delaware and the Southern District of New York.

It’s why the LA Dodgers went bankrupt in Delaware, why Detroit’s iconic General Motors and Texas’s own Enron got their cases heard in the SDNY.

The bankruptcy courts have long been in on this game, allowing the flimsiest of pretences to locate a case in a favorable venue.

For example, GM argued that it was a New York company on the basis that it owned a single Chevy dealership in Harlem.

Other companies simple open an office in a preferred jurisdiction for a few months before filing for bankruptcy there.

Lately, the venue of choice for dirty bankruptcies is in Texas (if only Enron could have held on for a couple more decades!). Only two Houston judges hear bankruptcy cases, and any bankruptcy lawyer who gets on their bad side risks ending their career.

Once a court becomes a national center for complex bankruptcies, the bankruptcy bar works to ensure that only favorable judges hear cases there, punishing a district by seeking other venues when a judge goes “rogue.” The fix is in from the start.

Purdue did not want to have its case heard in Texas. Instead, it manipulated the system so that it could argue in front of SDNY Judge Robert D Drain.

It was a good call, as Drain is notoriously generous with granting “third-party releases,” which would allow the Sacklers to escape their debts to the victims and survivors of their Oxy-pushing.

Once Drain agreed to the restructuring, he ensured that the victims would never get their day in court, and no evidence — from medical examiners, auditors, and medical professionals who received kickbacks for every patient they addicted — would be entered into the record.

Drain is also notoriously hostile to independent examiners, “an independent third-party appointed by the court to investigate ‘fraud, dishonesty, incompetence, misconduct, mismanagement, or irregularity…by current or former management of the debtor.”

But getting the case in front of Drain took some heroic maneuvering by the Sacklers’ lawyers. Levitin tracks each step of a Byzantine plan that somehow allowed a company that gave its address in Connecticut to have its case heard in New York.

The key to getting in front of Judge Drain appears to involve literally hacking the system, by putting a Westchester County location in the machine-readable metadata for its filing in the federal Case Management/Electronic Case Files (CM/ECF) system.

CM/ECF does not parse the text of the PDF that it receives from lawyers; only the metadata is parsed. The company listed a White Plains, NY address in this metadata, even though it had never conducted business there.

Purdue seems to have opened this office 192 days earlier for the sole purpose of getting its bankruptcy in front of Judge Drain (they were eligible for Westchester County jurisdiction 180 days after opening the office).

Their lawyers even went so far as to pre-caption the case filing with “RDD” — for “Robert D Drain” — knowing that all complex bankruptcies in Westchester County were Drain’s to hear.

The fact that the Sacklers were able to choose their judge — a judge who was notorious for his policies that abetted elite impunity in bankruptcy — is nakedly corrupt.

This move is how the Sacklers are walking away from corporate mass murder with a giant fortune. The art galleries have started to remove their names from their buildings, but they’ll have a lot of money to keep themselves warm even if they’re shunned in polite society.

A couple weeks ago, a Texas judge ruled against the NRA, denying its bankruptcy, on the grounds that it was a flimsy pretence designed to escape liability in New York, where it was incorporated.

https://apnews.com/article/nra-bankruptcy-dismissed-a281b888b64d391374f24539a820d60f

For many of us, the NRA bankruptcy was a kind of puzzle. We went from glad that the NRA was bankrupt to glad that they WEREN’T, because for dark money orgs like the NRA, bankruptcy isn’t a punishment, it’s a way to escape justice.

The NRA case is evidence that the corruption of the bankruptcy system isn’t yet complete. That’s no reason to assume everything is fine. The Sacklers are developing a playbook that will be used to escape other elite crimes with vast fortunes intact.

Image: Geographer (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Serpentine_Sackler_Gallery.jpg

CC BY-SA https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

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