Amazing Fact: Spaghetti and Ukulele Strings Actually Grow on Trees

Back in 1957, on April Fools Day, the British tele­vi­sion pro­gram Panora­ma report­ed on “a bumper spaghet­ti har­vest” in south­ern Switzer­land. The boun­ti­ful crop could be attrib­uted to the mild pre­ced­ing win­ter and the dis­ap­pear­ance of the nasty spaghet­ti wee­vil. After the broad­cast, hun­dreds of peo­ple called the BBC, want­i­ng to know how they could grow their own spaghet­ti trees. The BBC replied, “Place a sprig of spaghet­ti in a tin of toma­to sauce and hope for the best.”

If spaghet­ti can grow on trees, then why can’t ukulele strings do the same? In North­ern Italy, they’ve appar­ent­ly been grow­ing uke strings on “string wil­lows” since at least the 16th cen­tu­ry. It all comes down to find­ing the right bal­ance between sun and rain. That’s what ensures that the strings are nei­ther too soft nor too brit­tle, pro­duc­ing the fine tone that lets Jake Shimabukuro play his uke ever so beau­ti­ful­ly.

via Boing­Bo­ing

Short Film Jamel Rockt Shows How German Musicians Respond to Neo-Nazi Occupation of Small Town

Amid the many dis­turb­ing reports of ris­ing fas­cist groups in Europe comes one par­tic­u­lar­ly egre­gious sto­ry of the small town of Jamel in the east Ger­man region of Meck­len­berg. Accord­ing to The Inde­pen­dent, in the tiny vil­lage of some 40 peo­ple, sev­en of the ten hous­es are owned by mem­bers of Germany’s far right Nation­al Demo­c­ra­t­ic Par­ty (NPD), mak­ing the vil­lage “almost a pure neo-Nazi strong­hold,” where oth­er res­i­dents and neigh­bors of the town are fright­ened into silence. Der Spiegel writes that the NPD, “which glo­ri­fies the Third Reich,”

has been in the state par­lia­ment since 2006 and neo-Nazi crimes are part of dai­ly life. In recent months, a series of attacks against politi­cians from all the demo­c­ra­t­ic par­ties has shak­en the state. Some­times hard­ly a week goes by with­out an attack on anoth­er elec­toral dis­trict office, with paint bombs, right-wing graf­fi­ti and bro­ken win­dows.

Despite their dom­i­nance in minis­cule Jamel, how­ev­er, the NPD does not go unop­posed. Two res­i­dents, Horst and Bir­git Lohmey­er, have decid­ed to fight back with the most potent weapon they could find: music. The Lohmey­ers, who migrat­ed to Jamel from Ham­burg, seek­ing a rur­al retreat, have instead found them­selves orga­niz­ing a music fes­ti­val in their back­yard to counter the neo-Nazi pres­ence. The short film above, Jamel Rockt, doc­u­ments how the Lohmey­ers were gal­va­nized into action after their town was occu­pied by NPD. The film is full of cap­ti­vat­ing per­for­mances and inter­views.

The Lohmeyer’s mode of protest resem­bles any oth­er small-town out­door rock fes­ti­val, but its sig­nif­i­cance is thrown into high relief by the threat posed by their fas­cist neigh­bors. Kay Sond­gen, of the band Youth Red Cross, sums up the feel­ings of the par­tic­i­pants quite well, say­ing, “if you don’t fly the flag and just look away, then fear gains the upper hand. And lat­er peo­ple will say, ‘It wasn’t my fault. Noth­ing to do with me.’ You have to fly the flag! If every­one does that then extrem­ism, in what­ev­er form, sim­ply can’t gain the upper hand.” Sondgen’s phrase “fly­ing the flag” could mean any num­ber of things. For the rock­ers and fans of the Jamel fes­ti­val, it means coun­ter­ing extrem­ism with art, and refus­ing to be intim­i­dat­ed in a place “where right-wing extrem­ists can do vir­tu­al­ly what­ev­er they want.”

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

The Making of The Empire Strikes Back Showcased on Long-Lost Dutch TV Documentary

Note: The film switch­es to Eng­lish about 45 sec­onds in.

Ear­li­er this month, we fea­tured the launch of The Empire Strikes Back Uncut, a fan-dri­ven attempt to re-cre­ate the most beloved Star Wars movie of them all. But for an insight into the cre­ation of the orig­i­nal film, have a look at the Dutch tele­vi­sion doc­u­men­tary above, The Mak­ing of The Empire Strikes Back (part one, part two). The broad­cast focus­es on the painstak­ing cre­ation of the film’s spe­cial effects, most of which still hold up 32 years after audi­ences first glimpsed them. We see the mod­els, the mat­te paint­ings, and even the pha­lanx of per­form­ers and tech­ni­cians need­ed to exe­cute the Nor­way-shot bat­tle on the ice plan­et Hoth. It took $18 mil­lion, so pro­duc­er Gary Kurtz tells us, to pull all of this off. Sure­ly that seemed an extrav­a­gant, no-expense-spared fig­ure in 1980, but today, in light of the prof­its, ded­i­cat­ed fan­base, and place in the zeit­geist, it sounds like a bar­gain.

Alas, The Mak­ing of the Empire Strikes Back exists on the inter­net only in an incom­plete form, but the sto­ry behind its redis­cov­ery turns out to be inter­est­ing enough to com­pen­sate. Star Wars fan site mintinbox.net offers a detailed four-part arti­cle on this, “one of the most lost doc­u­men­taries about The Empire Strikes Back.” Though direct­ed by famed French “grand-reporter-cam­era­man” Michel Par­bot, it fell into obscu­ri­ty soon after its ini­tial broad­cast. But read­ing of the sub­se­quent search for a dis­trib­utable copy, we real­ize that we under­es­ti­mate the com­pletist ardor of the Star Wars fan­dom at our per­il. A fas­ci­nat­ing read indeed, but per­haps, like the MetaFil­ter com­menter who could only exclaim “I HAVE SEEN A MAN IN A WAMPA SUIT,” you pre­fer sim­pler plea­sures.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Hun­dreds of Fans Col­lec­tive­ly Remade Star Wars; Now They Remake The Empire Strikes Back

Star Wars as Silent Film

Mark Hamil­l’s Star Wars Screen Test (Fea­tur­ing Har­ri­son Ford)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

The Origin of Quantum Mechanics Explained in Four Animated Minutes

Minute Physics promis­es to bring you “cool physics and oth­er sweet sci­ence — all in a minute!” In this case, they went a lit­tle longer and pro­duced an ani­mat­ed video that gives you “The Ori­gin of Quan­tum Mechan­ics” in four min­utes. But cut them a lit­tle slack, it’s a big sub­ject.

Minute Physics pro­vides the draw­ings, and the voice nar­rat­ing the clip belongs to Neil Tur­ok, one of the world’s lead­ing physi­cists and the Direc­tor of Canada’s Perime­ter Insti­tute for The­o­ret­i­cal Physics. He has also pre­vi­ous­ly taught at Prince­ton and Cam­bridge. A sec­ond video fea­tur­ing Tur­ok — “Real World Telekine­sis”  — appears right below:

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Michio Kaku Explains the Physics Behind Absolute­ly Every­thing

Free: Richard Feynman’s Physics Lec­tures from Cor­nell (1964)

An Intro­duc­tion to Cos­mol­o­gy by Sean Car­roll

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See Ugly Thrift Store Paintings through Artist Wayne White’s Pretty Eyes

It reads like Hip­ster 101. Cre­ative mis­fit teen makes a con­scious choice to be a freak, grows up, sticks it to the main­stream, gains acclaim paint­ing fun­ny words and phras­es on ugly thrift store “art”. Except Wayne White, the man respon­si­ble in large part for the look of Pee­Wee’s Play­house and the sub­ject of a recent doc­u­men­tary, Beau­ty is Embar­rass­ing, isn’t much inter­est­ed in mock­ing easy prey. Pity. With those bed­room eyes and that ban­jo, he’d make a great a char­ac­ter on HBO’s Girls (pro­vid­ed, of course, he were thir­ty years younger).

Age has con­ferred a num­ber of lessons that he imparts on the thrift store ride-along above. For instance, those squares with whom less sea­soned artists are so pre­oc­cu­pied don’t give a hoot what the likes of him does or does­n’t do. Also, there’s no prof­it to be had in paint­ing on orig­i­nals. “That would be a com­ment on the artists.” Instead he trawls for repro­duc­tions, which he views as prod­ucts that have had all the pret­ty sucked out of them.

His plea­sure in find­ing a suit­ably unlove­ly Venet­ian scene in an ornate frame is refresh­ing, know­ing that it’s not pow­ered by snide irony. The only irony he acknowl­edges is that the uni­verse has seen fit to let him pros­per as an artist in this econ­o­my. Whether this will prove a last­ing lega­cy remains to be seen, but a few min­utes with Wayne White should be enough to per­ma­nent­ly alter your per­cep­tion of that hideous cov­ered bridge scene on your local Sal­va­tion Army’s wall.

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of The East Vil­lage Inky zine, and author of sev­en books, includ­ing the forth­com­ing graph­ic nov­el, Peanut.

A List of 60 Free Courses Granting Certificates from Great Universities (Some Starting This Week!)

Ear­li­er this year we began telling you about a poten­tial rev­o­lu­tion in edu­ca­tion — the birth of MOOCs, or Mas­sive Open Online Cours­es. As explained above, these cours­es let stu­dents, thou­sands at a time, take cours­es from great uni­ver­si­ties for free online. What’s more, most of these cours­es offer stu­dents a cre­den­tial — some­thing like a cer­tifi­cate of com­ple­tion — if they mas­ter the mate­r­i­al cov­ered in the class. Some of the MOOC providers are well known: Cours­era, Udac­i­ty, and edX. Oth­ers, like Class2Go, Google Course Builder and Ven­ture Lab, are just emerg­ing. But, togeth­er, they’re pro­duc­ing cours­es at break­neck speed, and we thought it was time to start orga­niz­ing a list for you.

Today, we’re rolling out a list of 60 Free Cours­es Grant­i­ng Cer­tifi­cates from Great Uni­ver­si­ties. The list orga­nizes cours­es chrono­log­i­cal­ly by start date, and it indi­cates the kind of cre­den­tial the cours­es offer — for exam­ple, Cer­tifi­cates of Com­ple­tion, State­ments of Accom­plish­ment, or Cer­tifi­cates of Mas­tery. The list, which hap­pens to include anoth­er 15 cours­es not bear­ing cer­tifi­cates, will be reg­u­lar­ly updat­ed. You can expect it to grow rapid­ly, and you can always access it by click­ing Cer­tifi­cate Cours­es in the top nav­i­ga­tion of our web site. Below we have list­ed a num­ber of online cours­es start­ing this week:

Get the full list here. It includes 75 Mas­sive Open Cours­es in total.

Rare 1946 Film: The Great Russian Composer Sergei Prokofiev Plays Piano, Discusses His Music

In 1946 the great Russ­ian com­pos­er Sergei Prokofiev was at the height of his suc­cess in the Sovi­et cul­tur­al world, but the state of his health was falling.

Only a year before, in the Great Hall of the Moscow Con­ser­va­to­ry, Prokofiev had con­duct­ed the glo­ri­ous pre­mier per­for­mance of his wide­ly praised Fifth Sym­pho­ny. “The hall was prob­a­bly lit as usu­al,” remem­bered the pianist Svi­atoslav Richter, who was there, “but when Prokofiev stood up, it seemed as though the light poured down on him from on high. He stood there, like a mon­u­ment on a pedestal.” But a few days lat­er Prokofiev faint­ed and took a ter­ri­ble fall, injur­ing his head and near­ly dying as a result. The diag­no­sis was severe high blood pres­sure. Prokofiev’s doc­tors advised him to move away from Moscow to some­place qui­et, so in the sum­mer of 1946 he pur­chased a dacha in the wood­ed sub­urb of Nikoli­na Gora.

A short time lat­er a gov­ern­ment film crew vis­it­ed the 55-year-old Prokofiev at his new home. The clip above is one of two sur­viv­ing takes, accord­ing to Simon Mor­ri­son of Prince­ton Uni­ver­si­ty, author of The Peo­ple’s Artist: Prokofiev’s Sovi­et Years. In the film, Prokofiev sits at the piano and plays a selec­tion from one of the waltzes in his bal­let Cin­derel­la, which had pre­miered the pre­vi­ous fall at the Bol­shoi The­atre. The com­pos­er then walks over to his desk and is asked to say a few words about what he is work­ing on. His reply, as trans­lat­ed on YouTube:

Well, right now I am work­ing on a sym­phon­ic suite of waltzes, which will include three waltzes from Cin­derel­la, two waltzes from War and Peace and one waltz from the movie score Ler­mon­tov. The War and Peace has just been bril­liant­ly pro­duced in Leningrad, where the com­pos­er Cheshko made an espe­cial­ly note­wor­thy appear­ance as a tenor, giv­ing a superb per­for­mance in the role of Pierre Bezukhov. Besides this suite, I am work­ing on a sonata for vio­lin and piano [No. 1 in F minor], upon com­ple­tion of which I will resume work on the Sixth Sym­pho­ny, which I had start­ed last year. I have just com­plet­ed thre suites from the Cin­derel­la bal­let and I am now turn­ing the score over to copy­ists for writ­ing the parts, so that most like­ly the suites will already be per­formed at the begin­ning of the fall sea­son.

The video con­cludes with a frag­ment of silent footage which, accord­ing to Mor­ri­son, shows Prokofiev play­ing the caden­za of the finale of his Third Piano Con­cer­to at Moscow in 1927 with “Per­sim­fans,” an ear­ly Sovi­et orches­tra that oper­at­ed with­out a con­duc­tor, in keep­ing with the pro­le­tar­i­an ideals of the rev­o­lu­tion. The rare films offer a fas­ci­nat­ing glimpse of the great com­poser’s play­ing tech­nique. As Mor­ri­son told us in an email:

The footage tak­en at Nikoli­na Gora clear­ly shows that he had mas­sive hands, flu­id (if a lit­tle rusty) tech­nique, and awk­ward­ly rigid pos­ture. He plays from the fore­arms down, metro­nom­i­cal­ly, with an ease and finesse that indis­putably con­tributed to his tech­nique of chro­mat­ic dis­place­ment (play­ing music in one key or tonal­i­ty but then inflect­ing it with pitch­es from oth­er tonal areas). His was an intu­itive man­ner of com­po­si­tion, influ­enced by the nat­ur­al feel of the key­board under his hands–slide-slipping between black and white keys, as shad­ows of one anoth­er.

Less than two years after the Nikoli­na Gora news­reel footage was made, Prokofiev’s life took a bad turn. On Feb­ru­ary 10, 1948 he was accused, along with Dmitri Shos­tokovich and oth­ers, of “for­mal­ism,” which the pianist and Prokofiev schol­ar Boris Berman describes as “a polit­i­cal libel in the guise of an aes­thet­ic term.” For­mal­ist art was viewed as being elit­ist and “unde­mo­c­ra­t­ic” for its pre­oc­cu­pa­tion with form over con­tent. As a result, Prokofiev and the oth­ers were unable to per­form or broad­cast their work. And just ten days after his denun­ci­a­tion, Prokofiev’s wife Lina was arrest­ed and charged with “espi­onage” for try­ing to send mon­ey to her moth­er in Spain. She was sen­tenced to 20 years in prison. Stress from the crises caused Prokofiev’s health to dete­ri­o­rate fur­ther, and on March 5, 1953 he died from a cere­bral hem­or­rhage. Joseph Stal­in died the same day.

h/t Matthew Barnes

Relat­ed con­tent:

Tchaikovsky’s Voice Cap­tured on an Edi­son Cylin­der (1890)

The Uncensored Andy Warhol-Directed Video for The Cars’ Hit “Hello Again” (NSFW)

post_thecars_helloagain_andywarhol

Andy Warhol was many things to many peo­ple in his long and event­ful career: painter and provo­ca­teur, pro­mot­er and direc­tor. But it sur­prised me to learn that he also made music videos. Well, he made one music video, for The Cars sin­gle “Hel­lo Again” from their 1984 album Heart­beat City. The biggest hit from that album, “You Might Think,” was a mas­sive MTV video hit and one of the first music videos to use com­put­er graph­ics. Warhol plays on much of the aes­thet­ic of the “You Might Think” video, which kind of epit­o­mized the cheesy, slight­ly sex­ist, mid-eight­ies look The Cars made big: giant, scant­i­ly-clad women, rudi­men­ta­ry com­put­er graph­ics scenes fea­tur­ing sun­glass­es and cock­tails, and, of course, plen­ty of cars. But there’s also lots of sig­na­ture Warhol here: lots of par­ties, lots of bod­ies, lots of sex (and nudi­ty).

Pop music always played a sig­nif­i­cant role in Warhol’s work, so it seems only nat­ur­al that he would align him­self with the cut­ting-edge mid-eight­ies syn­th­pop of the Cars. What’s more, he appears in a cameo as a bar­tender in the video, which also fea­tures a very young Gina Ger­shon. For obvi­ous rea­sons, the extend­ed, uncen­sored ver­sion of Warhol’s video (watch it here) didn’t make the rounds on MTV. The cen­sored ver­sion is, you might say, just a lit­tle less sexy, and a lot less Warhol. Since Warhol died in 1987, this video rep­re­sents one of the last pieces of the artist’s work. Warhol, an ear­ly adopter of dig­i­tal graph­ics tech­nol­o­gy, had pre­vi­ous­ly used Ami­ga com­put­ers to ani­mate images of Mar­i­lyn Mon­roe and cre­ate com­put­er art of his friend Deb­bie Har­ry. See him “paint” the “first com­put­er art­work,” a por­trait of Har­ry, on an Ami­ga com­put­er below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Three “Anti-Films” by Andy Warhol: Sleep, Eat & Kiss

Andy Warhol’s ‘Screen Test’ of Bob Dylan: A Clas­sic Meet­ing of Egos

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

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