Why the record boxes? Why the art work? Why the hell don’t I write more about dumpster diving? Many questions are piling up here on the ol’ TV tray…

 

The theory goes: Disorder increases with record collecting because we measure collecting in the direction in which disorder increases.

 

Any theory is always provisional, in the sense that it is only a hypothesis: you can never prove it, no matter how long you may scream into somebody’s contrarian ear, or pound your fist into a table or a disagreeing face. And no matter how many times the results of experiments agree with some theory, you can never be sure that the next time around the result will not contradict your precious little theory. But as philosopher of science Karl Popper has emphasized, a good theory is characterized by the fact that it makes a number of predictions that could in principle be disproved or falsified by observation and survive.

 

For example, each time a new box of records with distinctive artwork is observed to agree with the predictions, like selling quickly, that’s a good thing. The theory, ‘art covered record boxes are cool', not only survived but found revival. Hallelujah and pass the collection plate! Our confidence is increased! But if a new box, covered in great artwork, is put out on the floor yet contains only random, scratched, dusty and chipped records, sprinkled with rat poop, the resulting observations may be a bit negative. We may feel obligated to abandon or modify the theory, even though this collection of records didn’t match the usual criteria. Nevertheless the theory of ‘artwork on record boxes’ is still solid. However, amending our assumptions is not out of the question, especially if we have to deal with irate customers and a significant berating by management. A slight re-adjustment in the theory might conclude that the art work is just the carrot, and yes, you can lead a record geek to water, but without any water in the 45 box to wash down that rat poop stuck in his throat … well, you know … anyway, next time around we should just toss those ruined, scratched records in the dumpster and note; disorder increases because we tend to measure in the direction in which disorder increases.

The legendary street photographer Helen Levitt died earlier this month at the age of 95. Besides being a still photographer, Levitt was also involved in the making of documentary films in the late 1940s as a director, cinematographer and writer. For In the Street (1948) she was assisted by renowned New York writer James Agee and artist Janice Loeb. This silent film documents the grim realities of Harlem street-life in the days after the Second World War. In the Street was selected in 2006 for the National Film Registry list. For The Quiet One (1948), Levitt worked once again with Agee and Loeb; this time she received an Academy Award nomination for the screenplay. The Quiet One is an account of the rehabilitation at the Wiltwyck School of an emotionally disturbed African-American boy. Levitt's photography career would span more than seven decades. Here is more of Helen Levitt's work.

Earlier this month the legendary photographer Helen Levitt died at the age of 95. In the 1930’s she pioneered the art of street photography, most often documenting the neighborhoods and the people of her hometown, New York City. Her influence is undeniable. With the help of an inconspicuous Leica camera she captured small, everyday events, exceptional moments and quiet dramas. Someone once noted that Helen Levitt was "the most celebrated and least known photographer of her time." Here is some of her work.

This past week Yoko Ono unveiled her new mural entitled Promise and plans for it to be auctioned off for the charity Autism Speaks. The installation depicts clouds against a clear blue sky and presently stands in the lobby at the United Nations building in New York.

The 76-year-old Japanese-born artist, musician and widow of John Lennon divided the seven-foot tall mural into 67 jigsaw-like pieces. Each piece will be signed by the artist and is being auctioned at www.charitybuzz.com/yoko; the starting bid for each section is $1,000. The 67 pieces represent the approximately 67 million people who have autism world wide. When the piece was unveiled on Wednesday, two pieces were already missing.

Autism Speaks said this UN event was one of more than 100 that took place in 35 different countries to mark the second annual World Autism Awareness Day on April 2nd, one of only three issues recognized by the United Nations with a dedicated day. The other days are for AIDS and diabetes.

Yoko Ono hopes that all 67 pieces will be reunited once a cure for autism is discovered.

 

At Christies this week a cast-iron entrance rail to a Paris Metro stop from the early 1900’s sold for $27,500 at auction. The Art Nouveau remnant of the Paris subway system was originally expected to bring in only about $9,000.

 

Standing more than 4 feet high and almost 5 feet wide, more than 140 of these Metro guard rails were built around 1900. Though most have not survived, a few reside here and there and in museums around the world, including New York's Museum of Modern Art. There is actually only one complete surviving Art Nouveau edicule in the Paris Métro located at The Porte Dauphine station. All these entrance signs and railings and stations were created and designed by the architect Hector Guimard (1867 - 1942), who was also renowned for his design of the Pavilion of Electricity at the 1889 World's Fair in Paris and his 1913 design of the Synagogue de la rue Pavée à Paris.

Today Guimard is considered by many as the most prominent representative of the French Art Nouveau, but during his lifetime his fame and critical appreciation was short lived. By the onset of World War One his reputation and commissions had already started to fall by the wayside. By the time of his death in 1942 in New York, he had been forgotten. 

 

Christie's did not release the name of the winning bidder.