Pittsburgh Dish

Local media: Pittsburghers irrelevant dunderheads

The City Paper thinks we see the world in black and white and the Post-Gazette thinks we're too uncultured to understand pearls.

Given the alt weekly's continual assault on Pittsburgh and its residents, Editor Chris Potter's review of two exhibits at the Carnegie Museum of Art Luke Swank: Modernist Photographer and Witness to the Fifties--should not surprise. In his latest diatribe "Old Developments: In a series of new exhibits, Pittsburgh confronts its past--again" Potter--who seems to believe that Pittsburgh invented political corruption, pollution and potholes--delivers his usual patronizing patois--again.

This time, he glances at a wall of historical images of Pittsburgh's past then reads into the minds of backward thinking exhibit goers. What could have been a three column art review lands on the cover. Again, not surprising. It affords more room for the CP's customary anti-yinzer soapbox.

Gosh dang, we ain't got the smarts to understand them there pretty pictures.

If photography got its due as an art form, if Pittsburgh got its due as a city, we might see these photos differently. We might stop talking about them in terms of what they tell us about steel, or the Pittsburgh Renaissance. Instead, we might notice how the city’s hillsides flatten out perspective, creating an imagistic flatness that 1950s Abstract Expressionist painters sought to emulate. We might think of Pittsburgh as being what the garden at Giverny was to Monet: a landscape which prompted, and was transformed by, a powerful artistic vision.

Sadly, Pittsburghers themselves have trouble seeing the city that way. Bossen’s catalogue may laud “Benkovitz’s Fish Market” for its “mix of light and shadow and … compositional precision.” But for many Pittsburghers, the chief aesthetic response will be: “Hey, look! Benkovitz’s!” Swank was a modernist, but locally, his appeal has much to do with looking to the past. ...

But these archival images remind us that something has changed. Pittsburgh is still engaged in myth-making, but the myths no longer seem to matter as much. For a century, America’s prosperity was unthinkable without the industrial capacity Pittsburgh represented. Now, America has little need to think of us at all. Few people outside of Pittsburgh have a stake in our dreams of progress; many of us inside Pittsburgh aren’t as connected to them either. Maybe newer images attract less notice simply because the city warrants less attention.

Friends of Dish checked out the show recently. Their reply: "Before we went to the show we were offended [by Potter's article]. After seeing the show we were really offended."

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In much less offensive prose, yet still amusing, the Post-Gazette felt inclined to explain what really needs little explaining in a recent article on the development of the Fifth and Forbes retail corridor. Dish can hear an editor: "Localize it, dammit! Our readers only speak football!"...

Mr. O'Connor said developer Madison Marquette also is interested in New York-based Tiffany & Co., the upscale jeweler that crafts the Vince Lombardi Super Bowl Trophy.

Doubtless this thought arose simultaneously from New Castle to Greensburg: "Tiffany makes the Super Bowl trophy? Well, that quaint little jewelry hut must be important, then. Um, can I buy one of them trophies?"

Somewhere Holly Golightly disgorges her breakfast.

Heterosexual yinzer-mocker plans to leave Burgh

What follows is another shopworn tirade against Pittsburgh. This one written to Dish by a guy named CJ applauding an anti-Pittsburgh rant in the City Paper.

But first, please allow Dish a few words:

According to CJ, if we stopped liking the Steelers and spent money we didn't have (Chum, the cliché you're looking for is "you've got to spend money to make money" and it is to be applied to business, not individual household economies), we'd be living in Shangri-la. Forgetting that cities that CJ would probably prefer to Pittsburgh--New York, Boston, Dallas, Atlanta, Chicago--also have, if you get right down to it, rather annoying accents, CJ chooses to blast the yinzer (A point with which Dish concurs to a degree. Charming at times, but chiefly grating is the "pants-n-'at crowd. That said, Dish doesn't feel the need to implicate the humble yinzer in this city's economic struggles. It's just not fair ... n-'at.)

And CJ, buddy, go to West Haven, Connecticut, if you want abhorrent hairstyles. A mere 70 or so miles from NYC and neighbor to Dish's former hometown, New Haven, this sizable town is the mullet and Trans-Am capital of New England. People like football there as well, even "the gays." The point? Many of the problems, especially the insignificant ones CJ hurls out as if they actually meant something in the grand scheme of what's problematic about Pittsburgh, are present just about everywhere.

Howling like an infant about the Steelers, the yinzers and the mullet doesn't really address the legitimate problems the city faces. Possible bankruptcy, a difficult business environment, leadership that is, um, not exactly forward-thinking. CJ, try getting involved. Do something. Or move. That's probably easier.

One last thing: Dish has yet to meet anyone proud of the weather or the potholes. Both suck. And neither is exclusive to here. Bon voyage, CJ. Dish hopes you find your happy place ... n-'at.

And now, CJ:

I could not agree with this guy (Tony [Del Prete]) more.  I have lived in this area all of my life.  I do not like the Steelers (not gay) or any football for that matter.  I'm sick of this "one for the thumb" crap too.  Who cares!

I also cannot stand the accent, and have fought my whole life to not use it.  I hate "n'nat-ers"! I would rather listen to an infant screaming all day than hear one of these river rats ramble for ten minutes.

I have TRIED to run a business here for the last 8 years, and have barely managed to keep my head above water.  What Pittsburghers don't understand is if they want more money, they need to SPEND more money.  That's how an economy works. As an asphalt sealcoater, I make what someone ANYWHERE else would have made back in about 1975.  That's right about where this economy is stuck.  Pathetic.

  No, Pittsburgh is dead and it's not coming back to life.  There is nothing anyone can do about it either.  The recovery effort would have to be nothing short of a miracle.  And look at the majority of the people here anyway!  Mullet-sporting losers insisting that nothing is wrong with their region.  They are actually PROUD of their potholes, gloomy skies, black-hole economy and tacky, pathetic Steeler black and gold crap.

  I don't care anymore.  I say "f" pittsburgh.  Let it rot.  The rest of the country wouldn't even bat an eye if the whole place just ceased to exist.  It's a black hole.  A fading memory.  And all that remains is a crusty, polluted dump filled with morons who didn't leave when they had the chance.  Me included, but that's soon to change.

Of course this means Warhol...

Arts columnist Christopher Arnott cooks, quotes and stews over last week's puppet show review by the City Paper.

“Andy Warhol did more than conquer contemporary art; he largely redefined it in his own terms. No wonder Pittsburgh, from whence young Mr. Warhola split roughly as soon as he could purchase train fare, still eagerly claims him as a native son.”

That’s how the City Paper begins its review of "Warhol TM," Gretchen Van Lente’s contribution to the Black Sheep Puppet Festival.

Insert “studied commercial art and received a degree in pictorial design from Carnegie Institute of Technology” into that sentence somewhere and you might have something.

You could convincingly argue that Rock Hudson’s Winnetka, Illinois birthplace had minimal impact on the Hollywood screen career of Rock Hudson, or that West End, New Jersey was not of pivotal importance in the writing life of Dorothy Parker, but to imply that Pittsburgh had no role in the creation of Andy Warhol…!!! Pittsburgh simply allowed a construction worker’s son to pursue a creative career path (before CIT, he was encouraged by the Carnegie Museum of Art school), honing talents which he could then, at a tender age, bring to New York.

According to the City Paper story, by Bill O’Driscoll, the puppet piece had virtually no Pittsburgh content. That’s perhaps because Van Lente is a New Yorker herself, and built her script around snippets she learned from Warhol’s published diaries. Still, some reported elements of the show dispute the turned-his-back-on-his-hometown thesis. Like, he stayed close to family. Visited a lot. Is buried in Pittsburgh.

Perhaps the City Paper would have something pithily inaccurate to say about all the press the Andy Warhol Museum is getting for its touring “Warhol Legacy” exhibition. So what if the museum’s amassed the largest collection of Warhol relics in Christendom? To get reviews in the international press, it had to go out of town and hold a show in Washington DC.

The Washington Post review of “Warhol Legacy: Selections from the Andy Warhol Museum” at the Corcoran Gallery was picked up by Britain’s Guardian Weekly. The Post’s Blake Gopnik finds the retrospective “depressing” and “profoundly grim,” asserting that “almost all of the more thatn 150 works in the exhibit seem to point to a culture of consumption that, in one way or another, has broken down.”

Gary Tischler, who writes for The Downtowner, a free Washington DC weekly, had the best take on the Corcoran show. In the paper’s Oct. 5 ish Tischler notes: “How appropriate that … it would be a banker who would ‘get’ Warhol’s life and art better than most.” Tischler quotes Michael Harreld, president of PNC Bank of the Greater Washington Area on Warhol: “He was a genius, he was cutting edge, he knew how to create a buzz. He understood business as art, and the art of business. He understood the culture of business.”

The Corcoran exhibit apparently includes a bunch of the famous Warhol “screen tests.” You can find another one spliced into part two of Martin Scorsese’s Bob Dylan documentary “No Direction Home.” These screen tests, often derided as useless, content-free longform snapshots (typically, they are four-minute close-ups of inert celebrities captured at the Factory) have turned out to be an invaluable record of vapity among the rich and listless in Warhol’s thrall. The “screen test” model no longer holds much meaning—that old Hollywood format for auditioning starlets and virile young actors is too remote now for us to appreciate a swinging ’60s parody. But these (ever so slightly) animated headshots, bereft of conflict or glamour, have taken on a still-life of their own. They enliven documentaries. Their style, or lack of it, is aped for druggy party sequences in films like The Doors. You might think a modern corollary would be some low-fi internet talking head program, but part of the point of Warhol’s work was that he used high-end technology to do low-end things. In an age of photocopying, he silkscreened. In an age of mass production and mass marketing, he singled out soup cans and Brillo pads for art portraits. And he used miles of film to capture what others do with Polaroids.

In a previous column, I mentioned a fundraising event at Hartford Stage styled like a Warhol Factory party. The idea seems to be catching on, at least in Connecticut, which is so much in New York’s shadow arts-wise that some of the local art crowd might conceivably know somebody who knew somebody who might have once been at an actual Warhol party. On Oct. 21, in conjunction with its current exhibit “Pop and Beyond: Selections from the Collection,” the tony Lyman Allyn Art Museum (in New London, a depressed former factory town along the Connecticut shoreline) held “a night at Warhol’s The Factory” featuring “pop art, drinks, fun, music, food.” Fun? A certain mopey critic from The Washington Post might beg to differ.

Happy Boss's Day Pittsburgh

The Day of the Boss is nigh. Sunday in fact. Yes, the day set aside to honor the person who gets paid more than you, who gets more vacation time than you, seems accountable to no one and will absolutely not stop fondling your buttocks when you're just trying to get them damn TPS reports done.

By Joe Miksch, Jody DiPerna, Ryan Caione, Colleen Van Tassell

But what to get the guy or gal whose blazing mediocrity put them in charge of your accounts payable department? We don't know, either. However, Dish staffers and chums thought a bit about those in charge, particularly those in charge of Pittsburgh institutions, and what they merit for their year's worth of making sure you're not actually happy at work. Remember, enjoying one's job is like stealing from the company.

The results:

For Kevin McMahon, President of the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust: a game of Monopoly. And a lifetime supply of passes to the Garden Theatre, since they'll never get their hands on that. -J.D.

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For Terrence Orr, artistic director of Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre, a collection of zombie musicians that he wouldn't have to pay. -J.D.

A one-man band or, failing that, a really nice Bose sound system. -J.M.

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For Jamie Dixon, Pitt basketball coach: a recruiting class that includes a player with Chevon Troutman's heart, Chris Taft's height and Brandin Knight's brains. Oh, and a copy of Ben Howland's playbook. -J.D.

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For Pitt athletic director Jeff Long: some boxer shorts filled with 'nads to make some daring hires at the head coaching positions in both the football and basketball programs.

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For Jim Tracy, new manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates: a power-hitting right fielder. -J.D.

A couple of bottles of scotch and some valium. He's going to need it.-R.C.

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For Bill Cowher: season ending injuries to both Tom Brady and Peyton Manning. -J.D.

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To William Johnson, CEO of Heinz: Attack of the Killer Tomatoes DVD. -J.M.

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To Alain Belda, ALCOA head: A platinum-handled can crusher. -J.M.

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To the Convention and Visitors' director: Conventions and visitors. -J.M.

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To Mark Roosevelt, Superintendent of Schools: A child, left behind. -J.M.

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For Bishop Donald Weurl: A child's behind, left alone. -J.M.

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For Allegheny County Chief Executive Dan Onorato: Regardless of the outcome of this reassessment debacle, a blind eye to the value of Dish HQ. Dish doesn't have a roof, plumbing, heat, floors, walls. The whole thing ain't worth squat, Danno. In fact, the place doesn't even exist. Bother the neighbor about that sort of thing. He'd be glad to pay. -J.M.

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For Chris D'Addario, co-owner of Just Ducky Tours: Anything not duck-related. And a relatively painless consummation of his as-yet-unrequited mancrush on Tom Brady. -J.M.

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To Michael Cohen, co-owner of Just Ducky Tours: Bucca di Beppo gift card. -J.M.

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For Mayor Tom Murphy: The firefighters union. Oh, he got that last election? Ooops. -J.M.

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For Seen editors: A whoopee cushion, a hand buzzer and chattering teeth, for no good reason.-C.V.T.

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For Whirl editors: same as above. -C.V.T.

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For City Paper readers (It's hard, we know, because CP editors follow the alt-weekly 101 rule book): One issue free of stories which include one or more of the following topics: Bike activism; tattoo arists; Yinzer put-downs; Pittsburgh is a cultural void; Food stories that bash a restaurant but end with a phrase similar to "but it's worth the trip" hoping the owner won't get pissed and not advertise; We're smarter than the Post-Gazette; Self-congratulatory rants by white people living in black neighborhoods; a one-name artist who works with metals "exclusively"; Performance art; "Feminist" art; Vegetarians or vegans (subcategory: wiccans, drum circles, Food Not Bombs and belly dancing). -C.V.T.

Photos: Lucky bosses found on Google images. One guy got a bunt cake. He must be a really good boss.

Breaking News: Gibsonia Man Expresses Dislike For Pittsburgh Through Cliche

Too close for discomfort: Only 15 miles away from our stupidity.

Dish is soliciting donations so this sophisticated fellow can move to a more sophisticated city so the sophisticates there can appreciate his sophistication. Call Dish for one-way rates on Greyhound and contribute accordingly. Operators are standing by.

Pittsburgh Is Dead to Me

by Tony Del Prete, Gibsonia, for the PGH City Paper (Sept. 9, '05)

Paying homage to Romero’s latest money fest, it’s time to admit it, all you yinzer zombies:  Pittsburgh is dead.  I know it’s a stake in the heart, but we are not America’s most livable city, nor the city of champions. That occurred a generation ago, when Dawn of the Dead debuted. No, today we’re more like an ongoing high school reunion, with nothing but faded memories of the glory days and the prospect of life in the land of the dead.

But what can we expect from a town where Donnie Iris is considered a rocker and the hokey-pokey an anthem; where prominent mouthpieces (sorry, Myr’n) promote Pittsburghese; where potholes outnumber the people; and where the populace responds to the boom of fireworks like Pavlov’s dogs?

With the second-oldest county in the U.S. at our core, it’s unfair to blame the many optimists trying to revive Picksburgh. The reality is that until all of the provincial, stubborn bigots of the Steel City’s legacy die off, this city will continue its slide toward becoming a ghost town. And if we continue to live in the past, then we can’t expect or envision much of a future. Personally, I don’t hold out much hope. So I’ll offer some resuscitation strategies of my own while planning where I’ll retire once my kids grow up (and hopefully move away).

First, let’s replace the dinosaurs around town with, well, dinosaurs. We can erect likenesses of the ’70s Stillers on every corner. (Hell, for a couple of bucks or a Primanti’s sandwich, we might be able get some of the real guys to stand there.) That way, when people mumble about the Immaculate Reception to kids who could care less, at least they’ll have some idea of what’s going on inside the rotting brains of Steeler Nation. The Pirates and Penguins will be represented with holographs of their players -- which, to most Pittsburghers, never existed anyway.

During the day, various unemployed workers could collect turn-signal bulbs, ashtrays and other unused items from drivers, which can be sold to pay for fire and police protection. In school, children would be reminded that “ain’t” ain’t a word, but yinz need to study for a test ’n ’at. Both newspapers would reformat to become all opinion, all the time. Television stations will drop their “World in a Minute” segment to devote even more time to weather reports. Target, Wal-Mart and TJ Maxx would be the cornerstone of Plan F.

Then, each evening after work, giant speakers would blast the hokey-pokey -- “You put the right wing in, you kick the left wing out …” This could be followed by the Chicken Dance, which would mesmerize jaywalkers and gridlockers alike, prompting a Thriller dance-a-thon into the night. (Best big hair and most realistic hair plugs win Sophie Masloff screeching bobbleheads.)

Finally, when the skyline advertising is at its brightest, we can celebrate “mill night” with orange spotlights, sparkling confetti and smog machines reminiscent of our fossil-fuel heydays. All of this would obviously culminate with a nightly fireworks display. Afterward, as everyone returns home to the suburbs, “We are Family” would play incessantly on every radio station in town (except WYEP, which would take the opportunity to beg for even more money).

I don’t mean to rain on everyone’s parade, but that’s a typical forecast for Deadtown so it shouldn’t matter. If you’re going to stick around until this horror movie ends, then try to look on the bright side. When the latest multimillion-dollar boondoggle -- the underwater passage from Dahntahn to the stadiums -- is complete, you can call it The Funnel. Here, overpriced, unhealthy foods a la the arts festival can be sold complete with enough giveaways that pedestrians will wander aimlessly until their finals days, which, for me, can’t come soon enough. Rest In Pittsburgh (R.I.P.).

 

Photo: Fond memory, or blocking progress?

Chasing tail: Success possible

Cheer up lonely single girl found on Google Images. Buck up  unattached guy with sad indie band face. If you live in Pittsburgh, you have a swell chance to turn those frowns upside down.

Trib

Reporter Maggi Newhouse broke the good news yesterday:

A better single life

Pittsburgh might not have the cool quotient of Austin, the nightlife of New York City or the cultural institutions of Boston, but when it comes to the best places for singles, the Steel City does have something to boast about.

We're no longer the worst.

After three years of being ranked dead last on Forbes.com's annual list of the 40 best cities for singles, Pittsburgh has shooed away the buzzards circling overhead and muscled its way this year to ... 29th place.

... Forbes.com released its fifth annual list, which bases its ranks on categories such as culture, job growth, singles and 'coolness' this week. Denver-Boulder topped the list for the second year in a row, followed by Boston, San Francisco, Raleigh-Durham. and Washington-Baltimore.

...Replacing Pittsburgh at the bottom is Greensboro, N.C., followed by Norfolk, Va., Kansas City, Providence, R.I., and Tampa, Fla.

How We Rank

Nightlife

1. New York

2. Los Angeles

3. Chicago

4. San Francisco

5. Philadelphia

14. Pittsburgh

Singles

1. Austin

2. New Orleans

3. New York

4. Los Angeles

5. San Francisco

34. Pittsburgh

Coolness

1. Austin

2. Seattle

3. San Francisco

4. Boston

5. Washington-Baltimore

39. Pittsburgh

Pittsburgh Dish defers commentary to Ryan Caione, formerly a Pittsburgh resident who currently lives in Austin:

Austin ranked #1 in "coolness". The 'Burgh was 39th of 40. But isn't Pittsburgh's lack of "coolness" what makes it COOL? And if Forbes magazine thinks you're not cool, wouldn't that by extension also make you cool? Sure, Austin's got a better job market and more smarmy singles, but the 'Burgh trumps it in cost of living, culture, and yes, nightlife (unless listening to some go-nowhere live band stoke their egos in an overpriced bar packed with tourists and drunken college students is your idea of "cool".) If you're cool, you don't need people to tell you; you already know.

Editor's note: Ms. Newhouse erred in stating Pittsburgh ranked 29th for singles. The city ranked 34th. Suckier, but not the suckiest.

July 28, 2005 in According to the City Paper, Pittsburgh Sucks, Current Affairs, Media, More Opinion, Observations, Opinion, Seen & Heard | Permalink | Comments (0)

June 14, 2005

WTF?!

This is Matt, Pittsburgh Dish's official What the F#@*?! Guy.

You'll see his mug at least once a week when we don't quite understand something.

This week: Why is the City Paper pissed off at the elderly getting a little attention?

Writer Frances Sansig Monahan was so irked by a 1 minute, 56 second report by WPGH Channel 53 Reporter Andy Briggs about a 103 year-old bowler named Sam Pete that she felt compelled to say so in this week's City Paper:

• Summary

: A mesmeric profile of a centenarian bowler. Visuals: • The headline, “Oldest Olympian.” • Sam Pate, identified as “Bowling Wonder.” Highlights: • When anchor Katie Sesny announces, “The National Senior Games are now in full swing right here in Pittsburgh, and among the competitors is a bowler from Texas. Andy Briggs joins us now with his special story.” • When Briggs narrates, “At 103 years old, Sam Pate is believed to be the oldest athlete at these Senior Olympics. At his age, he doesn’t have much competition, but Sam enjoys himself just the same, and exemplifies what the games are all about.” • When Pate muses, “I’m just happy that I can roll the ball, and that’s what I’m doin’ now.” • Briggs’ proclamation: “[He] is in a class all to himself. He’s the only 103-year-old bowler at the senior games, making him a sure thing to win gold in his age bracket, just like he’s done the past three Olympics ... [He] didn’t pick up a bowling ball until age 80 after retiring from the post office and running his turkey farm.” Briggs adds, “Sam credits clean living, hard work and good genes for getting him this far.” • Sam’s longevity credo: “I ate good vegetables, and I … never had a cigarette in my mouth in my life and I never had a drop of beer in my mouth in my life.“ • When Briggs reports, “Sam Pate is one of 10,000 senior Olympians from all over the country who’ve converged on Pittsburgh for the two-week event. They’ve gotta be at least 50 years old to compete, half the age of Sam Pate. He’s a pretty good example of the senior Olympian spirit -- to stay active and athletic at any age.” • When Pate reflects, “I’m still tryin’. I don’t know what the score’ll be. Maybe nothin’.” • When Briggs addends, “And for the record, Sam’s scores today were higher than his age. He bowled a 111, a 123 and a 113 and also had six strikes.

What We Learned: Don’t drink, don’t smoke and you, too, may be rolling bowling balls at the age of 103! Unanswered Question: Are there any inherently bad vegetables I’m not familiar with? News Value: 2. So he’s 103. I’m glad he’s doing well, but he picks up a ball and rolls it, wins every time because there is no competition, and this is somehow supposed to inspire me?

What Dish Learned: If you listen closely you can hear Frances Sansig Monahan putting on her tap shoes eagerly awaiting to dance on old Sam's grave. News Value: 0. At least WPGH acknowledged the Senior Games. Oh but right, it's not "alternative" enough.Unanswered question: WTF?!

June 14, 2005 in According to the City Paper, Pittsburgh Sucks, Media, Opinion | Permalink | Comments (3)

May 12, 2005

Poor Dear

There they go again, those poor unfortunates at the City Paper. According to David Ryder's opus, "Pittsburgh Sucks for 40-Something Singles" (May 12) this ill-fated Knave of Hearts shall never meet the woman of his dreams in Pittsburgh lest she be a woman of advanced age or, heaven forefend, a smoker. Bars are too smoky, clubs are too loud, dance classes are filled with one too many feet in the grave. Mr. Ryder shares with his Dear Reader 695 words and with every syllable he decries the lack of passion fruits for his plucking in all of Pittsburgh.

Dearie, take some advice from Miss Pitt who has seen more action than one woman should in the back of a Dusenburg: Since women are not about to show up at your house to audition, pour yourself an "Oh Nurse!" and for God's sake take up smoking.  --Miss P

May 12, 2005 in According to the City Paper, Pittsburgh Sucks, Food and Drink, Miss Pitt , Opinion | Permalink | Comments (7)