You Must Remember This…

I list, therefore I am.

I am an inveterate keeper of lists. Not favorite movies or books. Not all-time greatest cricket batsmen and -women. But personal lists: goals, reminders, calendars, “to-do’s.” Once upon a time, this involved keeping a little notebook—the pen and paper kind. Then calendar and to-do list “templates” started appearing, and I crafted my own dated, columned, gridded, sometimes color-coded collections of bindered pages that weighed down my shoulder bag and supposedly cleared my head.

Has the computer/internet revolution made this any easier? Well . . . .

You be the judge. I offer this glimpse of my current “system” of keeping track of things for your edification and amusement (and—I suppose—mockery).

It starts, of course, with a calendar: the iCal app that synchs with my wife’s calendar so we can keep track of each other. Keeping it, however, isn’t as simple as the old days—scribbling on a grid magneted to the refrigerator door. Color coded to within an inch of its life, my iCal calendar is divided into categories. There are “appointments”: dentist, tai-chi class, meetings with my guru. Then there are slots for what I would like to be doing at any given time: go for a bike ride, mow the lawn, balance the checkbook. There are different colors for social engagements, family gatherings, and concerts and arts events I might want to attend—just to keep them on my radar.

That’s only the beginning. My “Omnifocus” app is quite a “To-Do,” listing everything I happen to think of that needs to be done: order tickets to this concert, make a hot-dish for next week’s pot luck, apply for Social Security Parts A and B. It has a nifty “repeat” function, so I can keep track of regular tasks (clean dishwasher filter—every two weeks, give up Vanilla Oreos “once and for all”—every month). Organized, yes. But also a procrastinators dream. With the convenient “postpone” function, I can scan my current list, pause again at “Clean Out Gutters,” and with a swipe of a finger put it off until next week.

I know what you’re thinking. “Paul, how to you remind yourself to check your list of reminders?” Well there’s an App for that. “Alarmed” doesn’t let me go silently into that good Wednesday. When it’s time to grab a racket and head to my pickleball showdown, it plays one of a variety of annoying sounds. Not just once. Not twice. But it resounds every minute until you confirm that you are suitably remindered. In the settings menu, you can select just the right bit of cacophony from a long menu: “Beep Beep,” “Ding,” “Ping,” “Kazoo,” "Rooster,” “Cowbell,” “Telephone” (British or American!), and the ever popular “Cosmic Flabberzap.”

And believe me, there’s nothing like a loud Cosmic Flabberzap to knock you out of your evening reverie and remember that it’s time to take out the garbage.

Influencers

"Such guides go by many names—call them influencers, or content creators, or just ‘this one guy I follow.’ Guided by their own cultivated sense of taste, they bring their audiences news and insights in a particular cultural area, whether it’s fashion, books, music, food, or film."

—Kyle Chayka, “The New Generation of Online Culture Curators,” The New Yorker, May 29, 2024.

Well, I suppose I was once that “one guy.” Guys and gals like me used to go by the name “critic.” Or arts writer. Or cultural journalist. We were folks who shared ideas about “fashion, books, music, food, or film.” I like to think they (we?) had “influence” and were “creative.” But today—in the mad linguistic dash to create new nouns—such folks are known as “influencers” and “creators.”

I suppose this is just one piece of the mass migration away from print and its oldfangled emphasis on—you know—words. I’m all for jumping on the new media bandwagon. I can’t say I spend much time on TikTok, but audio books and selected podcasts have enriched my drive time.

But curators, as Chayka calls them, do more than throw something in front of you with a “look at this” injunction. They put so called “content” into context—illuminate its pleasures, unearth its assumptions, dissect its implications. It’s not surprising that many of the TikTok movie reviewers—some with millions of followers—get a “thank you” check from the movie studios every so often.

And so it goes.

The Fast Lane

Speaking of creatives, one of our best critics recently changed hats at The New Yorker, and Anthony Lane didn’t waste any time strutting his stuff as he expanded his field of cultural vision. Here’s the lede from Lane’s recent essay, “Can You Read a Book in a Quarter of an Hour?”

"There are many reasons not to read a book. One, because you don’t want to. Two, because you started reading, crawled to page 17, and gave up. Three, because the idea of reading never crosses your mind. (If so, lucky you. That way contentment lies.) Four, because it’s Friday, which means that “W.W.E. SmackDown” is on Fox, which in turn means that Marilynne Robinson’s beatific new exegetical study of the Book of Genesis must, for now, be gently laid aside. Five, because reading a book is, you know, so lame. Only losers do it. And, six, because you simply don’t have the time."

The subject of Lane’s snark is Blinkist, a phone app which offers text or audio summaries of thousands of books, everything from Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus to Plato’s The Republic to RuPaul’s House of Hidden Meanings. Of course, this being 2024, most of the material to get “Blinked” straddles the bridge between personal improvement and go-git-’em business practices. In Lane’s words:

“Blinkist is still overwhelmingly weighted toward that peculiar twenty-first-century zone where the sensitive upkeep of the self merges, without friction, into running a company and stroking the bulge in your bank account.”

Curious? Well don’t trust my Blinked version of Lane’s essay. Read it in toto, and savor the peculiar charms of Blinked versions of the giants of literature: Raskolnikov, Mr. Darcy and Stephen Dedalus. Savor the spine-tingling conclusion of a Blinked Paradise Lost. And trace the history of literature, abridged—from 18th-century adaptations of the bible for children to that one time staple of rummage sales, Reader’s Digest Condensed Books.

Purlie Victorious

Leslie Odom, Jr., and Kara Young in Purlie Victorious.

The Tony awards air this weekend (Sunday, June 16th, 7 pm CDT on CBS). If you’re looking to celebrate before the ceremony, sit down and watch the Great Performances production of Purlie Victorious. And fasten your seatbelts.

First staged in 1961 (and not seen on Broadway since), Ossie Davis’s roller coaster of a satire is a spirit lifter and laugh machine with some dazzling performances. Leslie Odom, Jr., plays the title character, a preacher who has his eyes on an abandoned building to turn into his very own church. To buy it, he orchestrates a ruse to trick the plantation owner, Ol’ Cap’n Cotchipee, into giving inheritance money to a women masquerading as a distant family cousin.

Director Kenny Leon keeps his foot on the accelerator, driving the three-act show into a frenzied 100-minute feast of slapstick and brilliantly rendered comic characters. I’ll be rooting for this production’s leads, Leslie Odom, Jr., and Kara Young, when it comes time to hand out those Tony’s. Purlie Victorious close up shop on Broadway on February 4th, but is available to stream on PBS through July 19, 2024.

Ojai Festival

Rhiannon Giddens and members of the Attacca Quartet at the 2021 Ojai Festival. Photo by Juan Carlo.

Reading recent reports from California’s Ojai music festival, I was happy to see that the festival has a substantial video record of performance from past years. Long known as a center for artists of all stripes, the music festival was officially founded in 1947, Ojai has become a mecca for contemporary classical music and jazz.

This year’s festival featured pianist Mitsuko Uchida and the Mahler Chamber Orchestra. . The performance videos haven’t been released yet. But visit the festival’s YouTube channel and you’ll discover a feast of eclectic music. To get you started, I suggest checking out the Attacca Quartet with Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi (from 2021), and Roomful of Teeth performing Caroline Shaw’s dazzling and funny “Partita for 8 Voices” (from 2016).  

HIATUS!

I’ll be taking a short break from The Friday Five for the summer to enjoy the season and work on some other projects. Look for the column again in the fall.