4 picks what done cowboyed up.
Thursday
The American Dream
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The uneasy relationship between people and nature has been in heavy evidence this last month. Perhaps this is why it feels right that Bruce Babbitt's
Cities in the Wilderness, A New Vision of Land Use in America
opens with Babbitt pondering, more than a decade ago, the opportunities created for urban renewal as the result of Hurricane Andrew. The storm's destruction of Homestead Air Force Base, south of Miami, created then a debate about what would be developed in its stead:
r
esidential development with low environmental impact,
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commercial development or a jetport to create new jobs?Secretary of the Interior under Bill Clinton, as well as a former Governor of Arizona, Babbitt is a leading conservation voice in contemporary American history, recognizing both the natural and historical importance of this country's private and public lands. His book connects the dots between seminal federal environmental-protection laws (Endangered Species Act, Clean Water Act) and their on-the-ground applications. Babbitt ultimately proposes, in effect, a national dialogue about protecting this country's resources, in which the federal government takes an active role in guiding this protection. (
Julia Goldberg
)
Friday
The American Dream
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If there's a city synonymous with images of bright lights, it's Tokyo, Japan-continually portrayed with a barrage of neon, video and flashing, beeping, brimming technology. Photographer Naoya Hatakeyama also captures the futuristic capital city through light, but somehow manages a wholly unique, and significantly more contemplative, perspective-impressive enough to earn him representation of Japan in 2001's Venice Biennale. Part of his secret is a preternatural instinct for filtering and part is the way he views light as structure and often perceives structure as vessels for containing or transmitting light. But by far the most potent ingredient is the obvious intimacy shared among the electrified cityscape, the natural world that still courses through it, and the photographer who makes his home in the spaces between. (
Zane Fischer
)
Friday-Saturday
Double Shot
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At her concert last week at the Lensic, Lucinda Williams introduced a song by calling it "stone country," a term, she made clear, that refers to real country music. She went on to say folks tend to use the term "alt.country" to refer to the same genre, when it's really just plain ol' George Jones, Loretta Lynn, pedal-steel, rough-and-
tumble-heartache C&W. You know, the good kind. Young as they may be, the Thrift Store Cowboys are nothing but stone country, pure dusty twang with some modern twists, straight outta Lubbock, Texas, a six-piece whiskey shot of fiddle and lap steel-inflected Americana: If Sergio Leone had hired a band to soundtrack an Italian bisexual porn Western, or maybe an adaptation of
Lolita
set in Deadwood, this is the first band he'd have called. And, they're playing twice this week, so make ours a double. (
Jonanna Widner
)
Friday
Maverick Meter
Slam poetry's forceful meter may be in-your-face, but another oral poetic tradition takes over where the city meets the plain. Cowboy poetry might be slam's do-good grandaddy-it's been around for a couple of centuries and it's
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all about singing nature's praises, living a moral life, and paying tribute to the dearly departed. Even in the days of corporate mega-farms and pre-packaged flank steak, crowds are still drawn to at least the metaphorical campfire. Perhaps it's because we yearn for a more essential life, where our efforts yield direct results and the horizon is wide and free on all sides. Or maybe it's because we still love a good yarn or maybe it's just that thing about cowboy butts. Whatever the reason, Men of the West deliver the humorous, the nostalgic and the sublime this weekend. Cowboy poets Glenn Ohrlin, JB Allen, Randy Riemen and Pedro Marquez kick off their boots at the Lensic for evening of cowboy poetry and song, to conjure the sweet and weary cowpoke in each of us. (
Farren Stanley
)
