Christopher Hitchens, Who Mixed Drinking & Writing, Names the “Best Scotch in the History of the World”

In 2006, a pro­file of Christo­pher Hitchens in The New York­er not­ed how its sub­ject had the ten­den­cy to drink “like a Hem­ing­way char­ac­ter: con­tin­u­al­ly and to no appar­ent effect.” Although Ernest Hem­ing­way’s approach to alco­hol informed the habits of his lit­er­ary per­son­ages, it dif­fered sig­nif­i­cant­ly from that of the late jour­nal­ist. Hem­ing­way, counter to his image, stood firm­ly against mix­ing writ­ing and drink­ing, and when asked about com­bin­ing the two exclaimed:

“Jeezus Christ! Have you ever heard of any­one who drank while he worked? You’re think­ing of Faulkn­er. He does sometimes—and I can tell right in the mid­dle of a page when he’s had his first one. Besides, who in hell would mix more than one mar­ti­ni at a time, any­way?”

Where­as Hemingway’s approach to writ­ing and imbib­ing was often marked by a cau­tious and pro­fes­sion­al wall of sep­a­ra­tion, Hitchens had no such com­punc­tions. The con­trar­i­an will­ing­ly admit­ted to drink­ing a for­ti­fy­ing mix­ture of wine and spir­it through­out the day:

“I work at home, where there is indeed a bar-room, and can suit myself.… At about half past mid­day, a decent slug of Mr. Walk­er’s amber restora­tive, cut with Per­ri­er water (an ide­al deliv­ery sys­tem) and no ice. At lun­cheon, per­haps half a bot­tle of red wine: not always more but nev­er less. Then back to the desk, and ready to repeat the treat­ment at the evening meal. No “after din­ner drinks”—​most espe­cial­ly noth­ing sweet and nev­er, ever any brandy. “Night­caps” depend on how well the day went, but always the mix­ture as before. No mix­ing: no mess­ing around with a gin here and a vod­ka there.”

Despite this hale and hearty rou­tine, Hitchens claimed to be invig­o­rat­ed rather than impaired by his con­sump­tion:

“… on aver­age I pro­duce at least a thou­sand words of print­able copy every day, and some­times more. I have nev­er missed a dead­line. I give a class or a lec­ture or a sem­i­nar per­haps four times a month and have nev­er been late for an engage­ment or shown up the worse for wear. My boy­ish vis­age and my mel­liflu­ous tones are fair­ly reg­u­lar­ly to be seen and heard on TV and radio, and noth­ing will ampli­fy the slight­est slur more than the stu­dio micro­phone.”

As with fish­ing and amorous exploits, so with drinking—one should be skep­ti­cal of bold claims. Nev­er­the­less, Gray­don Carter, the long­stand­ing edi­tor of Van­i­ty Fair mag­a­zine, cor­rob­o­rat­ed the robust­ness of Hitchens’ con­sti­tu­tion in a fond and respect­ful obit­u­ary fol­low­ing the journalist’s death in 2011.

“He was a man of insa­tiable appetites—for cig­a­rettes, for scotch, for com­pa­ny, for great writ­ing, and, above all, for con­ver­sa­tion… Pre-lunch can­is­ters of scotch were fol­lowed by a cou­ple of glass­es of wine dur­ing the meal and a sim­i­lar quan­ti­ty of post-meal cognac. That was just his intake. After stum­bling back to the office, we set him up at a rick­ety table and with an old Olivet­ti, and in a sym­pho­ny of clack­ing he pro­duced a 1,000-word col­umn of near per­fec­tion in under half an hour.”

In the clip above, Hitchens makes his well-researched pro­nounce­ments on the world’s best Scotch whisky. Below, the for­mer Asylum.com pro­duc­er Antho­ny Layser sits down with Hitchens for a drink fol­low­ing the release of his mem­oir, Hitch-22. Over Hitchens’ beloved spir­it, the duo dis­cuss­es every­thing from writ­ing, to Brazil­ian wax­es, to water­board­ing. The con­ver­sa­tion, last­ing some 14 min­utes, is part of an Asylum.com series titled Drinks with Writ­ers, which includes Layser’s inter­views with Gary Shteyn­gart, Simon Rich, and Nick Horn­by.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Christo­pher Hitchens Revis­es the Ten Com­mand­ments

Christo­pher Hitchens Answers Red­dit User Ques­tions

Christo­pher Hitchens Cre­ates a Read­ing List for Eight-Year-Old Girl

Ilia Blin­d­er­man is a Mon­tre­al-based cul­ture and sci­ence writer. Fol­low him at @iliablinderman.

Yoko Ono, Age 80, Still Has Moves, Dances with The Beastie Boys, Ira Glass, Roberta Flack & Friends

Yoko Ono, a Bad Dancer?

Pshaw! As she’s very like­ly aware, there’s not a thing wrong with her danc­ing. If there were, I doubt she’d be sport­ing saucy hot pants in the above video for the first sin­gle off of the Plas­tic Ono Band’s Take Me to the Land of Hell.

Her 80-year-old stems are in fan­tas­tic shape. May­haps this youth­ful vibe is a reflec­tion of the com­pa­ny she keeps. A bunch of nifty pals from Gen­er­a­tions X and Y showed up to shake their tail feath­ers on camera—the sur­viv­ing Beast­ie Boys (who also pro­duced), Reg­gie Watts, Cibo Mat­to’s Yuka Hon­da and Miho Hatori, gen­der-bend­ing per­former Justin Vivian Bond, and pub­lic radio star Ira Glass, to name but a few.

Appar­ent­ly, she’s not quite as tight with all her dance part­ners as the video would imply. Glass describes his involve­ment thus­ly:

She’s gra­cious, has to be remind­ed by a han­dler who in the world I am. Then total­ly acts nice, says some­thing along the lines of “I appre­ci­ate the work you do” which either means she’s heard my work or she hasn’t…. The song is called “Bad Dancer” so I’m the per­fect par­tic­i­pant because—though I love to dance, I have no illu­sions. I’m a spaz. I stand in front of the cam­era and 20 han­dlers and hip­sters and pub­li­cists and crew and Yoko Ono and I think a reporter from Rolling Stone and I tell myself to pre­tend I can do this and I dance.

Per­haps declar­ing her­self a Bad Dancer is Ono’s way of encour­ag­ing self-con­scious wall hug­gers to drop their inhi­bi­tions and join in the fun. It’s an approach to life, and aging, that made a cult clas­sic of Harold and Maude.

Place your bets

Watch your step

I’m a bad dancer

With no regrets

 Relat­ed Con­tent:

Yoko Ono’s Make-Up Tips for Men

Watch John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s Two Appear­ances on The Dick Cavett Show in 1971 and 72

Dis­cov­ered: Con­ver­sa­tion with John Lennon, Yoko Ono, and Tim­o­thy Leary at Mon­tre­al Bed-In (1969)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day still gets a bang out of Yoko Ono’s FLY. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday-

The Smithsonian Picks “101 Objects That Made America”

101-Objects-photo-collection-631

The Smith­so­ni­an’s 19 muse­ums, 9 research cen­ters, and 140-plus affil­i­ates boast the world’s largest collection—137 mil­lion items, in addi­tion to a stag­ger­ing array of pho­tos, doc­u­ments, films, and record­ings. Choos­ing which to include in The Smith­so­ni­an’s His­to­ry of Amer­i­ca in 101 Objects (pub­lished on Octo­ber 29) from such a wealth of options was no easy task. (On the oth­er hand, the Direc­tor of the British Muse­um Neil Mac­Gre­gor did man­age to encap­su­late two mil­lion years of world his­to­ry in one object less…)

Anthro­pol­o­gist Richard Kurin, the Smith­son­ian Insti­tu­tion’s Under Sec­re­tary for His­to­ry, Art, and Cul­ture, pri­or­i­tized objects with vivid biogra­phies. There may be no way for a muse­um to recre­ate the Civ­il War, as he notes, but a “hand-drawn bat­tle map of the time, a bul­let or gun­nery shelf, a uni­form bear­ing evi­dence of wounds, and bro­ken met­al shack­les are all objects that, hav­ing been present at the event depict­ed, can speak to the larg­er sto­ry. The parts stand for the whole.”

Celebri­ty may have fac­tored into the selec­tion process, too. Not every entry is bespan­gled with a famous name, but one can’t over­look the vic­ar­i­ous thrill inher­ent in Cesar Chavez’s union jack­et, Abra­ham Lin­col­n’s top hat, Helen Keller’s watch, or Mar­i­an Ander­son­’s mink coat.  Who can say whether these res­o­nances will lose their lus­ter in the future. In his intro­duc­tion, Kurin uses the steer­ing wheel of the U.S.S. Maine, once an object of keen nation­al inter­est due to its role in the Span­ish-Amer­i­can War, to exem­pli­fy the descent into obscu­ri­ty.

To cel­e­brate the pub­li­ca­tion of The Smith­so­ni­an’s His­to­ry of Amer­i­ca in 101 Objectsthe Smith­son­ian Chan­nel will be pro­fil­ing some of the items in a four-part series, Seri­ous­ly Amaz­ing™ Objects (love the trade­mark, guys).

In the mean­time, have a browse through an online gallery fea­tur­ing 50 of Kur­in’s picks.

Or enjoy these three sam­ples, select­ed by yours tru­ly for their uni­fy­ing round­ness. (I could nev­er accom­plish any­thing on the order of Kur­in’s feat, but encour­age the Smith­son­ian to get in touch when­ev­er they’re in the mar­ket for some­one who could repack­age their col­lec­tion as board books for infants…)

Negro-Baseball-68-963

Negro League Base­ball

1937, Amer­i­can His­to­ry Muse­um

Sports­writer Frank Deford ful­fills Kur­in’s bio­graph­ic require­ments with an essay on the larg­er social impli­ca­tions behind this arti­fact, which scored a home run for Buck Leonard and the East line­up in the ’37 Comiskey All-Star game.

Oklahoma-stamp-963

USS Okla­homa Stamp

1941, Postal Muse­um

“To record when a piece of mail was processed aboard ship, the Navy used wood­en post­mark stamps. This one bears an omi­nous date: Dec 6, 1941 PM. It was recov­ered from the bat­tle­ship Okla­homa after it was hit by sev­er­al tor­pe­does, list­ed to a 45-degree angle, cap­sized and sank in the attack on Pearl Har­bor on Decem­ber 7, 1941. The Okla­homa lost 429 sailors and Marines, a third of its crew.”

Wow.

pill-100-963

The Pill

c. 1965 Amer­i­can His­to­ry Muse­um

As Natal­ie Ang­i­er, author of Woman: An Inti­mate Geog­ra­phy point­ed out in a recent arti­cle in Smith­son­ian mag­a­zine, “when peo­ple speak of the Pill, you know they don’t mean aspirin or Prozac but rather that moth­er of all block­buster drugs, the birth con­trol pill.”  A pin­na­cle of both med­ical and fem­i­nist his­to­ry, its sig­nif­i­cance extends well beyond the nation­al bor­ders.

How about you, read­ers? What item from a muse­um col­lec­tion would you include in a book on Amer­i­can His­to­ry?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ani­mat­ed Ver­sion of Howard Zinn’s His­to­ry of the Amer­i­can Empire

Pulitzer Prize Win­ner Picks Essen­tial US His­to­ry Books

Dis­cov­er Thomas Jefferson’s Cut-and-Paste Ver­sion of the Bible, and Read the Curi­ous Edi­tion Online

Ayun Hal­l­i­day remem­bers the amaze­ment she felt see­ing Archie and Edith’s chairs on an 8th grade field trip to Wash­ing­ton DC. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

See the Homes and Studies of Wittgenstein, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche & Other Philosophers

WittgensteinStudy1

Philoso­phers are quirky crea­tures. Some become house­hold names, in cer­tain well-edu­cat­ed house­holds, with­out any­one know­ing a thing about their lives, their loves, their apart­ments. The life of the mind, after all, rarely makes for good the­ater (or TV). And pri­or to the cre­ation of whole aca­d­e­m­ic depart­ments devot­ed to con­tem­pla­tion and region­al con­fer­ences, a philosopher’s life could be a very lone­ly one. Or so it would seem to those who shun soli­tude. But for the book­ish among us, the glimpses we have here into the well-kept homes and stud­ies of sev­er­al famous dead male Euro­pean thinkers may elic­it sighs of won­der, or envy even. It was so much eas­i­er to keep a room of one’s own neat before com­put­er para­pher­na­lia and tiny sheaves of Post-it notes clut­tered every­thing up, no?

WittgensteinStudy2

At the top of the post, we have an aus­tere space for a severe­ly aus­tere thinker, Lud­wig Wittgen­stein. His desk in Cam­bridge faces a vault­ed trip­tych of sun­lit win­dows, but the book­shelf has clear­ly been emp­tied since his stay, unless Herr Wittgen­stein pre­ferred to work free of the dis­trac­tion of oth­er people’s pub­lished work. Above, anoth­er angle reveals com­fort­able seat­ing near the fire­place, since blocked up with what appears to be an elec­tric heater, an appli­ance the ultra-min­i­mal­ist Wittgen­stein may have found super­flu­ous.

WittgensteinHouse

In addi­tion to his phi­los­o­phy, the Ger­man scion of a wealthy and eccen­tric fam­i­ly had an inter­est in pho­tog­ra­phy and archi­tec­ture, and he built his sis­ter Mar­garet a house (above) that became known for “for its clar­i­ty, pre­ci­sion, and austerity—and served as a foil for his writ­ten work.” Wittgenstein’s eldest sis­ter Hermione pro­nounced the house unliv­able, as it “seemed indeed to be much more a dwelling for the gods than for a small mor­tal like me.”

SchillerStudy

Anoth­er poly­math, cred­it­ed along with Goethe for a phase of Ger­man thought called Weimar Clas­si­cism, poet and philoso­pher Friedrich Schiller’s stu­dio in his Weimar house above presents us with a light, airy space, a stand­ing desk, and some sur­pris­ing­ly well-tend­ed fur­nish­ings. Whether they are orig­i­nal or not I do not know, but the space befits the man who wrote Let­ters Upon the Aes­thet­ic Edu­ca­tion of Man,  in which (Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty informs us) he “gives the philo­soph­ic basis for his doc­trine of art, and indi­cates clear­ly and per­sua­sive­ly his view of the place of beau­ty in human life.” The entire house is a study in beau­ty. A much gloomi­er char­ac­ter, whose view of humankind’s capac­i­ty for ratio­nal devel­op­ment was far less opti­mistic than Schiller’s, Arthur Schopen­hauer lived a soli­tary exis­tence, sur­round­ed by books—a life much more like the car­i­ca­ture of phi­los­o­phy. Below, see Schopenhauer’s book col­lec­tion lined up neat­ly and cat­a­logued.

SchopenhauerBooks

The façade of Schopenhauer’s birth house in Gdan­sk, below, doesn’t stand out much from its neigh­bors, none of whom could have guessed that the strange child inside would pre­pare the way for Niet­zsche and oth­er scourges of the good Chris­t­ian bour­geoisie. No doubt lit­tle Arthur received his por­tion of ridicule as he shuf­fled in and out, an odd boy with an odd hair­cut. And if Schopen­hauer didn’t actu­al­ly write the words attrib­uted to him about the “three stages of truth”—ridicule, vio­lent oppo­si­tion, and acceptance—he may have ful­ly agreed with the sen­ti­ment.

Schopenhauer_House-576x1024

Final­ly, speak­ing of Niet­zsche, we have below the Niet­zsche-Haus in Sils-Maria, Switzer­land, where the lover of moun­tain­ous climes and hater of the vul­gar rabble’s noise holed away to work in the sum­mers of 1881, 1883, and 1888. The house now con­tains an open library, one of the world’s largest col­lec­tions of books on Niet­zsche. Trip Advi­sor gives the site four-and-a-half stars, a crowd-sourced score, of course, of which Niet­zsche, I’m sure, would be proud.

nietzsche_house_sils_maria

See many more Ger­man (and some French) philoso­phers’ homes and stud­ies at The Unem­ployed Philoso­phers Guild PhLogA Piece of Mono­logue, and the excel­lent pho­tog­ra­phy site of Patrick Lakey.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Dai­ly Habits of High­ly Pro­duc­tive Philoso­phers: Niet­zsche, Marx & Immanuel Kant

Philoso­pher Por­traits: Famous Philoso­phers Paint­ed in the Style of Influ­en­tial Artists

Famous Philoso­phers Imag­ined as Action Fig­ures: Plun­der­ous Pla­to, Dan­ger­ous Descartes & More

Phi­los­o­phy: Free Cours­es

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

80s Pop Singer Jimmy Somerville Surprises German Street Musician as the Busker Sings Somerville’s Hit

The 80s saw a num­ber of hits by most­ly UK synth-pop and new wave bands with promi­nent gay mem­bers (whether their fans knew it or not) like Cul­ture Club, Soft Cell, Frankie Goes to Hol­ly­wood, and Wham!. One of the most impres­sive­ly tal­ent­ed singers on this bur­geon­ing 80s dance scene was Scot­tish musi­cian Jim­my Somerville who defined the tremu­lous falset­to dis­co sound of bands like Bron­s­ki Beat and the Com­mu­nards. Somerville’s first hit, 1984’s “Small­town Boy,” was some­thing of an ear­ly “It Gets Bet­ter” mes­sage cou­pled with a hard-edged dance-pop sound and a very auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal video (below). The song, writes All­mu­sic, dealt open­ly with Somerville’s sex­u­al­i­ty, “a recur­ring theme [in his work] that met with sur­pris­ing­ly lit­tle com­mer­cial resis­tance.”

Today, Somerville lives in Berlin with his dog, and he’s still got that tremen­dous set of pipes. A Berlin street musi­cian found this out recent­ly while busk­ing “Small­town Boy” on an acoustic gui­tar, and bystanders hap­pened to catch it on video (at top). As the young street per­former hits the cho­rus, up walks Somerville to casu­al­ly join in. The singer starts over and they fin­ish the song in har­mo­ny. The more cyn­i­cal cor­ners of the inter­net swear the whole thing’s staged, per­haps for a Somerville come­back, but I like to think it’s gen­uine serendip­i­ty, espe­cial­ly at the end as the Ger­man busker sud­den­ly has a flash of recog­ni­tion: “it’s you?” he asks. “It’s me,” says Somerville, “it’s a hit.”

via Gawk­er

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lenny Kravitz Over­hears High School Kids Play­ing His Music and Sur­pris­es Them by Join­ing In

Street Artist Plays Leonard Cohen’s “Hal­lelu­jah” With Crys­tal Glass­es

Neil Young Busk­ing in Glas­gow, 1976: The Sto­ry Behind the Footage

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Dissident Poet Joseph Brodsky Gives Six Life Tips to College Grads (1988)

Josef_Brodsky_Michigan

Image from the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan Year­book, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Although Joseph Brod­sky was one of the most cel­e­brat­ed Sovi­et dis­si­dents of the 20th cen­tu­ry, the Nobel Prize-win­ning poet had been unerr­ing­ly hound­ed by the repres­sive Sovi­et gov­ern­ment, which had labeled his poet­ry as “porno­graph­ic and anti-Sovi­et.” Refus­ing to aban­don his writ­ing, Brod­sky was repeat­ed­ly brought to court, and once sen­tenced to 18 months of labor in the Arc­tic region of Arkhangel­sk. Dur­ing one of his court­room appear­ances, the young poet dis­played an admirable lev­el of tes­tic­u­lar for­ti­tude when the judge asked him, “Who has rec­og­nized you as a poet? Who has enrolled you in the ranks of poets?” Brod­sky, defi­ant, replied “No one. Who enrolled me in the ranks of the human race?”

In 1972, Brod­sky left the USSR for Amer­i­ca, where he was wide­ly sought as a lec­tur­er (his aca­d­e­m­ic bed­post includ­ed notch­es from Cam­bridge, Colum­bia, the Uni­ver­si­ty of Mass­a­chu­setts, and Mount Holyoke). On the heels of his win­ning the 1986 Nation­al Book Crit­ics’ award for crit­i­cism for Less Than One and receiv­ing the Nobel Prize for Lit­er­a­ture in 1987 (porno­graph­ic writ­ing, it seems, does quite well with the crit­ics), Brod­sky was invit­ed to give the 1988 com­mence­ment address at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan.

Brod­sky’s remarks are far from the gal­va­niz­ing dose of inspi­ra­tion that many com­mence­ment address­es impart, and cer­tain­ly not what Michi­gan grad­u­ates were expect­ing. Rather than uplift, the poet­’s words sober­ly ground the audi­ence; instead of wrap­ping them in a warm self-assured­ness, the life tips are jar­ring, like an ice bath. Brod­sky’s address is a mix of wry humour, acknowl­edge­ment of our absur­dist exis­ten­tial dilem­ma, and bold, hon­est com­pas­sion. Read­ing Brodsky’s advice, one can’t help but feel that the poet val­ued his flawed human­i­ty even more than his art; like­ly, they were insep­a­ra­ble.

Here’s a boiled-down ver­sion of the poet’s remarks:

1) “Treat your vocab­u­lary the way you would your check­ing account.” Expres­sion often lags behind expe­ri­ence, and one should learn to artic­u­late what would oth­er­wise get pent up psy­cho­log­i­cal­ly. Learn to express your­self. Get a dic­tio­nary.

2) “Par­ents are too close a tar­get… The range is such that you can’t miss.” Be gen­er­ous with your fam­i­ly. Even if your con­vic­tions clash with theirs, don’t reject them—your skep­ti­cism of your infal­li­bil­i­ty can only ben­e­fit you. It will also save you a good deal of grief when they are gone.

3) “You ought to rely on your own home cook­ing.” Do not expect soci­ety to arrange itself to your benefit—there are too many peo­ple whose desires con­flict for that to hap­pen. Learn to rely on your­self, and help those who can­not.

4) “Try to not to stand out.” Do not cov­et mon­ey or fame for their own sake. It is best to be mod­est. There is com­fort join­ing the ranks of those who fol­low their own dis­creet paths.

5) “A par­a­lyzed will is no dain­ty for angels.” Do not indulge in vic­tim­hood. By blam­ing oth­ers, you under­mine your deter­mi­na­tion to change your cir­cum­stances. When life con­fronts you with hard­ships, remem­ber that they are no less an intrin­sic part of exis­tence. If you must strug­gle, do so with dig­ni­ty.

6) “To be social is to be for­giv­ing.” Do not let those who have hurt you live on in your com­plaints. For­get them.

The full text—irrevocably more pithy and eloquent—may be found here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

‘This Is Water’: Com­plete Audio of David Fos­ter Wallace’s Keny­on Grad­u­a­tion Speech (2005)

George Saun­ders Extols the Virtues of Kind­ness in 2013 Speech to Syra­cuse Uni­ver­si­ty Grads

Neil Gaiman Gives Grad­u­ates 10 Essen­tial Tips for Work­ing in the Arts

Mashup Artist “Kutiman” Travels to Tokyo and Creates an Incredible Musical Postcard

Israeli musi­cian and video artist Ophir Kutiel, aka Kuti­man, gained notice culling and remix­ing unre­lat­ed per­form­ers’ Youtube videos for his extreme­ly col­lab­o­ra­tive-feel­ing Thru You project.

With 2011’s Thru Jerusalem, the urge to con­nect fel­low musi­cians went live, as he left his com­put­er to film local instru­men­tal­ists per­form­ing tunes of their choice in var­i­ous city set­tings. Back in Tel Aviv, he edit­ed the results into one of his sig­na­ture mashups, not to men­tion a vir­tu­oso musi­cal trav­el­ogue.

Now he’s trav­eled even fur­ther afield to Tokyo, cap­tur­ing forms both tra­di­tion­al and ultra-mod­ern, for the first in a new series of orig­i­nal shorts from PBS Dig­i­tal Stu­dios.

Mayuko Kobayashi plucks serene­ly at the strings of a koto. Turntab­list KEIZOma­chine!, half of the break­beat duo Hifana, scratch­es in his stu­dio. The diminu­tive Ishii Chizu­ru pounds a taiko drum. Inven­tor May­wa Den­ki (aka Novu­michi Tosa) demon­strates his adorable Ota­ma-Tone. (Cur­rent­ly marked down in the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art’s gift shop, for those look­ing ahead to their hol­i­day shop­ping lists.)

The desire to inte­grate the ancient and the new is best embod­ied by kimono-clad Mako­to Takei, who clos­es his eyes on a high-rise bal­cony as he plays a shakuhachi flute, the ver­ti­cal city serv­ing as back­drop.

Add a pink haired Hara­juku girl, a string of red lanterns, innu­mer­able cell phones, some pixel­lat­ed video game char­ac­ters, an aged tem­ple or two, and sev­er­al teem­ing inter­sec­tions, then blend at top speed!

The prod­uct may be a bit ear­split­ting at times, but that in itself is fit­ting giv­en the loca­tion. Thru Tokyo is a mar­velous audio-visu­al post­card from 21st-cen­tu­ry Edo, Japan.

Relat­ed Kuti­man Videos:

Kuti­man Mash­es Led Zep’s Black Dog: 80 Clips Stitched into One

The Moth­er of All Funk Chords

The Sounds of Jerusalem

Ayun Hal­l­i­day feels the trav­el bug bit­ing yet again. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Animated Video: Kurt Cobain on Teenage Angst, Sexuality & Finding Salvation in Punk Music

The Blank on Blank “Lost Inter­view” series con­tin­ues to roll along. Today, they’ve released an ani­mat­ed video based on a July, 1993 inter­view with Nir­vana front­man Kurt Cobain. Record­ed less than a year before his death, the inter­view­er, Jon Sav­age, finds Cobain feel­ing rel­a­tive­ly opti­mistic, upbeat, bet­ter than he’d felt in years. The inter­view touch­es on many things, but, if there’s a com­mon theme, it’s iden­ti­ty — Cobain’s Irish­ness, his ques­tions about his sex­u­al­i­ty as a younger man, his views on women and sex­ism, his sense of being an out­sider through­out his child­hood, and how punk music saved him from all of that. Pre­vi­ous Blank on Blank videos have revived inter­views from Ray Charles, Janis JoplinDavid Fos­ter Wal­lace, Jim Mor­ri­son & Dave Brubeck. For footage of Kurt Cobain back in the day, see some of the choice mate­r­i­al below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Nir­vana Plays in a Radio Shack, the Day After Record­ing its First Demo Tape (1988)

Nirvana’s Home Videos: An Inti­mate Look at the Band’s Life Away From the Spot­light (1988)

The “Priest” They Called Him: A Dark Col­lab­o­ra­tion Between Kurt Cobain & William S. Bur­roughs

Kurt Cobain’s Iso­lat­ed Vocal Track From ‘Smells Like Teen Spir­it,’ 1991

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