Blake Gopnik on watching all seven hours of “Empire”. The New York Times, Jan 17, 2014

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  • 8/13/2019 Blake Gopnik on watching all seven hours of Empire. The New York Times, Jan 17, 2014.

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    N C41THE NEW YORK TIMES, FRIDAY, JANUARY17, 2014

    By BLAKE GOPNIK

    ANDY WARHOL was a

    genius, but hecould be mean. Heloved to make his

    acolytes squabble. Hed tor-ture visitors by blaring thesame pop song over andover.

    He could even be toughon his audiences, especiallywith his films: He gave fansalmost 45 minutes of apainter eating a mushroom,76 minutes of an actor shak-ing his rear, more than fivehours of a boyfriend sleep-ing and, to top it all, Em-pire eight hours straightof the Empire State Build-ing, doing nothing.

    Warhol shot the skyscrap-er between about 8:10 p.m.and 2:30 a.m. on July 25 and26, 1964. This month, in its50th-anniversary year, thefilm is being projected bythe James Fuentes galleryfrom start to finish.

    On the screenings firstweekend, I showed up pre-pared: coconut water, sand-wiches, an apple and someold Christmas cookies as

    well as a caffeine-spiked en-ergy drink. Only that lastitem was never called for.

    Youd expect that afterHour 3 or 4 of Empire,youd be ready to slit yourwrists, but the movie turnsout to be gripping. If greatworks of art can be thoughtof as machines for thinking,triggering ideas by the doz-en, then Empire is a Rolls-Royce: It keeps us thinkingabout what film is and does,what great buildings are allabout and even how andwhy we look at things. Jot-ting down my thoughtsminute by minute, I endedup writing more than 5,000 words.

    There were dumb moments (Backfrom 2 min. bathroom break. What did Imiss?!) and ones that felt smart at the

    time (The E.S.B. used to be lit as amonument, in honor of its presence andimportance as a building. Now, coveredin LEDs, it has become like a TimesSquare mega-screen, advertising itself,and N.Y.C.) But whats surprising isthat, for all its vast length, Empiredoesnt leave you with that many blankmoments.

    Andy Warhol is the most revolu-tionary of all filmmakers working to-day, Jonas Mekas, the Village Voicecritic and film pioneer, wrote less than a

    month after Empire was shot. Lastweek, over lunch at a bar a few blocksfrom Fuentes, which represents him,Mr. Mekas, 91, still voiced the sameviews on Warhol. He was the avant-garde, Mr. Mekas said.

    One summer day in 1964, he recalled,when he was out on the streets with ayoung Warhol hanger-on named JohnPalmer, they found themselves lookingup at the Empire State Building. I saidto Palmer: This is a perfect Warhol

    movie. Why dont you tell this to Andy?And he did.

    Warhol arranged access to an officeon the 41st floor of the Time & Life

    Building, at 50th Street and Avenue ofthe Americas. He, Mr. Mekas and Mr.Palmer, along with a few others, foundthemselves in a darkened room, with arented 16-millimeter Arriflex camerapointing at the worlds tallest building,16 blocks south.

    The shoot lasted about six and a halfhours, but Warhol always intended hismovie silent, black and white, andfilmed at the standard 24 frames a sec-ond to be screened at about three-

    quarters speed. He wanted that touchof unreality, to take it out of naturalism,Mr. Mekas said.

    At Fuentes, the screening, at 18

    frames a second, takes just over sevenhours, while a 1960s projector wouldhave slowed it to 16 frames a second,taking eight hours. Warhol, the work-ing-class boy from Pittsburgh, made amovie that asks us to sit for the lengthof a workers shift.

    (The longest anyone else sat with mein the gallery screening was seven min-utes. You understand as much fromviewing such a tiny segment of Em-pire as you would from viewing just a

    postage-stamp patch on theMona Lisa.)

    Empire had its pre-miere on March 6, 1965, andMr. Mekas has saved the in-vitations, which credit themovie to Andy Warhol andJohn Palmer. We seem toglimpse Mr. Palmer, as wellas Mr. Mekas, at the be-ginning of two of the films10 reels, reflected in the

    Time & Life Building win-dow. Theres also a few sec-onds reflection of a manwho must be Warhol, takinga look through the camera.

    Those glimpses feel espe-cially important as youwatch the film. They give asense of the duration of theshooting of Empire, and ofreal people endlessly gazingout the window at the actualskyscraper perfect ava-tars for those of us wallow-ing in the movie version. Itsthe fact of that endless, par-allel staring, by the film-makers and us, thats thereal subject of this art work.

    When youre paying at-tention to more or less noth-ing, small details start toloom. Turns out you can tellthe time in the movie by thebeacon on top of the MetLife Tower, which flasheswith each hour like a tollingchurch bell. And it seemsamazing that a work thatsall about passing timeshould include such a per-fect means of marking it.

    Warhol, Mr. CampbellsSoup, was always a masterof important triviality, andhe gets us to care moreabout little things, like aflash bulbs firing from theEmpire States summit, orits floodlights turning onand off at dusk and 2 a.m.,

    than the great structure itself. In its de-pendable presence, hour after hour, itends up having the cozy appeal of ahouse cat asleep beside us.

    According to Mr. Mekas, he and War-hol joked during the shoot that with thebuildings phallic shape, the whole filmmight be censored as pornography. ButEmpire is more like endless foreplay.

    Monumental Cast, but Not Much Plot

    THE ANDY WARHOL MUSEUM, CARNEGIE INSTITUTE, PITTSBURGH

    The invitation to the 1965 premiere of Andy Warhols film Empire, now being shown in its entirety at the James Fuentes gallery.

    Empire is shown starting at 11 a.m.Wednesday through Sunday throughJan. 26 at the James Fuentes gallery, 55Delancey Street, between Allen andEldridge Streets, Lower East Side; 212-577-1201, jamesfuentes.com.

    Blake Gopnik is writing a biography ofAndy Warhol for HarperCollins.

    By NATALIE SHUTLER

    MOVE slowly, the in-structor cautionedas students of theKrav Maga Insti-

    tute, grouped in twos, moved men-acingly toward each other. Wedont want to hit our partner.

    Krav maga, meaning contactcombat in Hebrew and pro-nounced krahv ma-GAH, is ahand-to-hand martial art that hasbeen used in Israeli military train-ing since the 1940s. Classes in NewYork teach the grappling moves,but with more of an emphasis onurban self-defense and exercise.At a Midtown studio one recent

    weeknight, a class focused on es-caping chokeholds.The instructor, Josh Green-

    wood, had demonstrated a rapidsequence of movements thatwould break the lock of an at-

    tackers grasp and disable thatperson. The routine throw upthe arm, twist out of the grasp andsend a hammerfist punch to theattackers face included thebare basics. But Mr. Greenwoodencouraged students to add an-

    other punch or two for good meas-ure. (Anything after the hammer-fist is icing on the cake, he said.)

    The routine was exacted in slowmotion, each step mimed with de-liberate intensity, and concludedonce the attacker was subdued

    and the defender had moved safe-ly out of the way, scanning for oth-er possible threats.

    The sole woman in the class,Pallavi Pal, 23, an analyst at acredit-rating agency, got into itquickly, accidentally knocking herpartner in the face. (In intermedi-ate and advanced classes, like thisone, students usually wear mouthguards and protective cups.) At 5feet tall, Ms. Pal was the shortestperson in the room by at least ahead, though fiery and intimidat-ing in her own right.

    In movies, you never seesmall, petite people, who look de-fenseless, being able to defend

    themselves, she said. But for alot of these techniques, you dontnecessarily have to be ripped andbuff and really tall to pull themoff.

    While many krav maga classesfocus on aggressive defensemoves how to deflect a knife orgun attack, and when to use a kickto the chest or a knee to the groin all come with some cardioworkout, stretching and gamesmeant to keep the class social andfun.

    Often the drills and games areprecursors to the techniques be-ing taught, a subconscious warm-up of the muscles and reflexes.

    That way, when they startwork on the technique, theyrehalfway there, said Patrick Lock-ton, who founded the Krav Maga

    Institute in New York two yearsago.People never join for just the

    fitness, Mr. Lockton said. Theywant to learn something. Theworkout is a byproduct.

    This holistic approach appealedto Brian Lieberman, a 30-year-oldsecurity consultant who took upkrav maga because it was intellec-tually and physically engaging. Iused to get bored running andweight lifting, he said.

    The moves are meant to be in-stinctual and easy to pick up, astime for training is limited in themilitary. When that training isadapted to day-to-day life in NewYork, it gives people practicalknowledge for dealing with dan-gerous situations, Mr. Locktonsaid.

    You can defuse or walk awayfrom 90 percent of situations, Mr.Lockton said. Krav maga, he add-ed, is for that other 10 percent.

    Urban Athlete

    From Easy Mark to Street Fighter

    PHOTOGRAPHS BY MELANIE FIDLER FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES

    The krav maga instructor Jobe OLeary, above at left and below atleft, teaching the self-defense technique to students in Manhattan.

    The Krav Maga Institute offersclasses at several New Yorklocations. An introductory class is$29, and a month of unlimitedsessions is $129;kravmagainstitutenyc.com.

    They may have started as homespun outfits op-erating off Off Broadway against long odds, butits now clear that institutions like PerformanceSpace 122, Here and the Abrons Arts Center havesecured their rightful place in New Yorks artisticfirmament, staging high-profile festivals acrossManhattan.

    Fortunately, success hasnt led them to compro-mise on a shared valueof making theaterafford-able to the average citizen. Tickets to individualshows can be had for around $20 at P.S. 122s Coilfestival, the Public Theaters Under the Radar fes-tival, the Abrons Arts Centers American Realnessfestival and the Prototype festival, overseen byHere and Beth Morrison Projects.

    But the Miser wouldnt be doing his job if hefailed to alert you to a still sweeter bargain: Thefour festivals are collaboratingon a series of freelate-night performances by an intriguing range ofartists at the Publics LuEsther Lounge.

    On Friday night, M.A.K.U.SoundSystem willshowcase its blend of indigenous Colombianrhythms and contemporary dance music with apolitical edge. The mysterious DJ Acidophiluscloses out the evening.

    On Saturday night, relive Carson Dalys glorydays with Chris Tylers Total Rejects Live, a lov-ingly irreverent re-enactment of an MTV fran-chise that was for millennials what the Buzz Binwas for Gen X and American Bandstandwas forboomers.

    On Sunday night, the Middle C hurch JerrieseJohnson Gospel Choiroff ers an evensong of sorts,with a repertory that covers traditional gospeltunes as well as nonsacred music. Sharing the billis the Vintage DJ, who spins strictly vinyl delightsfrom an earlier era on a pair of portable grade-school-issue turntables.

    Doors open at 9:30 p.m., and acts hit the stage at11. Alas, unlike the performances, drinks arent onthe house, but the dancing is intended to last longinto the night.

    (Friday, Saturday and Sunday, 425 LafayetteStreet, at Astor Place, East Village; 212-967-7555;

    ps122.org/coil-14-lounge.)

    Intimate ElectronicaWith one foot in fogeydom (temperamentally if

    not literally), the Miser has enjoyed the recent ex-plosion of electronic dance music an expansioninto huge outdoor festivals of marathon durationwith sense-deranging accouterments only vi-cariously. This weekend, Nonotak New York, animmersive sound and light installation by the Pa-risian duo Nomi Schipfer and Takami Nakamoto,offers sophisticated music and visuals withinmore intimate confines.

    The free exhibition runs from Friday nightthrough Sunday, closing with a live performanceby the duo. The exhibition is presented by AxcessArt at the Fowler Project Space in Brooklyn.

    (Opening reception, Friday, 7:30 to 10:30 p.m.;closing performance,Sunday, 4:30 to 6:30 p.m. Gal-lery hours: Saturday, noon to 5 p.m., and Sunday,noon to 6p.m.; 67 West Street,at Noble Street,Greenpoint, Brooklyn; fowlerprojectspace.org.)

    A. C. Lee

    Weekend Miser

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