Tangerine Reads | Breaking into James Baldwin's House

One of my favorite reads in recent months was this beautifully written piece in the New Yorker, by Thomas Chatterton Williams. (I should disclose that the writer is a friend, but I so thoroughly enjoyed the story and thought it too good not to share.) While on holiday in the Cote d'Azur, Williams and his cohorts - his wife and a friend - managed to sneak into the abandoned former home of one of his heroes, literary and cultural icon James Baldwin. The villa in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, where Baldwin resided from 1970 until his death in 1987, now languishes in a woeful state of neglect, and its fate remains unclear. Although slated to be razed by developers seeking to capitalize on its spectacular views, work seems to have stalled and the property remains largely untouched.

I enjoyed the story as much for its painterly rendering of the locale as for the glimpse into the thoughts and sensations the experience triggered in the mind of the writer, as he mulls over what exactly he was hoping to find inside the home, ruminates on Baldwin's decision to take up residence there, segues into an exploration of why his voice has experienced such a resurgence as of late, and grapples with the thought that the crumbling physical vestiges of his footprint in France might soon be erased. 

I won't spoil it for you, but suffice it to say that its well worth a read, and I won't blame you if it inspires a jaunt to le Midi. TCW's description of the fascinating La Colombe d'Or had me mentally packing my bags. Having played host to a formidable roster of artists, writers, and other intriguing persons, the walls of the 1920's restaurant-turned-retreat and former Baldwin haunt must reverberate with stories. 

Louise Bourgeois Home Will Soon Open to the Public

by Maleeha Sambur

Louise Bourgeois' Chelsea home will open to the public this summer through the Easton Foundation, offering admirers of the French-born sculptor a new window into how she lived and worked. The brownstone on West 20th Street, which Bourgeois and her husband Robert Goldwater purchased in 1962, remains largely unchanged since her passing in 2011, with garments still hanging in closets and countertops cluttered with toiletries, which make it seem as if she's only stepped out for an errand. The townhouse's four floors are imbued with personal history -- it's where Bourgeois coped with the loss of her husband, flourished as an artist, held her famous Sunday salons, and became involved in activism -- and this intimate glimpse seems to reflect her pragmatic, unfussy attitude towards the business of living. 

Head over to the New York Times to read more and check out photographer Nicholas Calcott's wonderful images here. 

Tangerine Radio | The Lijadu Sisters

by Maleeha Sambur

Spotify Premium has been serving up some spot-on recommendations in our household lately, including this tune by the Lijadu Sisters, which has been the best addition to my music library in a very long while. 

A national treasure in their native Nigeria, Taiwo and Kehinde Lijadu are identical twin sisters who put out a number of critically acclaimed records between the 60's and 80's, a time when there weren't many female musicians making waves on the male-dominated Nigerian music scene. Singing in both Yoruba and English, their sound has been described as a mix between Afrobeat, Reggae, Jazz, Funk, Disco, and Waka, and "Come on Home" feels warm, instantly familiar, and, well, sisterly -- their voices interact playfully, inseparably, hinting at some secret telepathic twin language.

In 2014, at age 65, the duo re-emerged with an album, saw re-issues of some of their out-of-print albums by Knitting Factory Records, and performed with David Byrne and the Atomic Bomb! Band in a series of tribute concerts celebrating William Onyeabor. Here's hoping we continue to hear more from them. 

Also, how amazing are those earrings? 

MicroTeatro México

by Jennifer Saracino

One night soon after I had moved to Mexico City, my friends announced that they had a surprise for me. They took me down a little alley in Santa Maria la Ribera, and we stopped just outside a nondescript building with a sign that read 'Microteatro.' In the Microteatro, you can watch a 'Micro Obra' (mini play) that's just 15 minutes long with 15 audience members. 

For our first show, we entered a tiny room with a bed that took up most of the space. Suddenly, an actor beside me started speaking to another woman in the room. She played a prostitute, eager to begin, but he, instead, began to recount a past memory. He spoke softly, gazing down at the floor, but then looked up . . . directly at me! 

The actor moved towards me and grabbed my hand. I looked at my friends in panic. He motioned for me to lie down in the bed. I prayed that I wouldn't have to speak - fortunately, I didn't. I was more of a prop, and the actor recounted the memories of his mother's funeral, while looking down at me, clasping my hand. 

I was mesmerized by the Microteatro. The owners fully optimized the entire building, making every room an intimate stage. The proximity to the actors themselves gave each of us a voyeuristic feeling - like we were privy to a conversation we shouldn't be hearing. 

The lobby of the Microteatro was filled with contemporary art and the laughter and lively discussions of its visitors. The first floor boasted a bar and antojitos, or little snacks, for purchase. 

If you're interested in experimental, accessible theater, I highly recommend the Microteatro even if you're not fluent in Spanish. The shows are short and direct, so they are easier to understand than a longer production. I'm not completely fluent, and I burst into quiet tears after one particularly poignant play.  But be warned: you might just get pulled onstage. 

MicroTeatro México
Roble 3
Santa María la Ribera, Cuauhtemoc, 06400
http://www.microteatro.mx

An earlier version of this post appeared on my blog, Something to Write Home About

Tangerine Radio | Exuma

by Maleeha Sambur

With temperatures reaching into the 70s this week, November in New York is feeling more like June, and the effects of this El Niño-driven seasonal regression are being felt not just in my wardrobe, but also in my headphones, as warm weather tunes mingle with my winter standards. One summer remnant in particular - Exuma's "Rushing Through the Crowd" - is still on heavy rotation. 

Over the summer, I stumbled, quite by accident, across a 1972 single by the late Bahamian artist. I was working with a swimwear client, and while shooting at her studio, we found ourselves in need of some props. She pulled out a box of discarded records she'd rescued from the sidewalk, from which we plucked a dusty 45 featuring an illustration of Adam and Eve in a tropical Eden on the label. We put it on, and just seconds into its junkanoo/calypso/freak-folk goodness, I was smiling. If you're looking to deny winter's approach for a bit longer, or just in need of a mood-lifter, this should get you shimmying.