Support the Beeb!

Nah, not the BBC but the upcoming stage adaptation of Ann Bannon's pulp novel Beebo Brinker. I mentioned this cool project a little while ago, and now a fundraising event has been announced. Go there to sign up.

And while we're on a girly bent: I went to the Brooklyn Museum to check out its new exhibit, Global Feminisms, along with Judy Chicago's Dinner Party (pictured above). As far as the contemporary works go, I was underwhelmed by a certain lack of emphasis on craft (my own personal hangup there); I might have been more impressed if a larger share of the artists had payed less attention to their high-minded statements of intent and more to the art itself. In addition, is it politically and artistically a good idea for the museum to have a new Center for Feminist Art? Personally I'd prefer it if female artists were referred to as just artists, without being circumscribed to their own little section; it reeks too much of sitting at the back of the bus for my taste.

Overall I'm glad The Dinner Party exists and I'm glad I saw it, but I can't say I have much patience for the piece's wide-eyed womonly worship or for its palette (pinks and purples, oh my). The increasing outlandishness of the vulvae that decorate the dinner plates is amusing—I especially liked the one that looks like the egg right before the face-hugger jumps out of it in Alien—but overall the emphasis on women's nature as nurturers bugs the hell out of me. (Less vulvae, more Saabs, I say. Ba-dum-bump! Thank you, I'll be here all week!) By the end, our merry little band found itself looking for more guests to invite to the party—Angie Dickinson, Kathleen Hanna and Shane came up, but also Imelda Marcos, Ethel Merman and Eva Peron.