“This installation draws information from the intensity and movement of the water in a remote location. Wave data is being collected in real-time from National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration data buoy Station 46246 (49°59’7” N 145°5’20” W) on the Pacific Ocean. The wave intensity and frequency is scaled and transferred to the mechanical grid structure installed at The National Museum in Wroclaw, Poland. The result was a simulation of the physical effects caused by the movement of water from this distant location.”
aalbright.tumblr
I'm Anthony Albright—observer, recorder, photographer, interneter.
Photos are on Flickr.
Tweets are at @antalbr.
-
2012-01-13
-
2012-01-07
Newsracks (by Anthony Albright)
-
Occupied San Diego CityBeat Newsrack (by Anthony Albright)
-
2011-12-11
The calls started coming in the afternoon and tied up phones for hours at the headquarters of at least two organizations strongly critical of the Kremlin. “Putin is life; Putin is the light; love Putin and your life will have meaning; Putin will give you happiness; Putin will open your eyes,” a woman’s ethereal voice chanted over and over and over.
Moscow’s department of education sent out a directive on Friday requiring students in grades 9 through 11 to report for a mandatory Russian exam on Saturday during the time of the protest.
More ominous was an altered photograph of Mr. Putin circulating in the blogosphere that showed him dressed in the flowing robes of Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi, the deposed leader of Libya, whose violent death in October was condemned by the Russian prime minister.
What a surreal tale of the first major protest since Soviet-era Russia. Murakami could have written this story.
I love it.
-
A trailer for Juan de los Muertos, an awesome-looking (if not somewhat bloody) Cuban zombie-comedy set in Havana critiquing a heedless Castro government and the Cuba-policy of the United States.
From the New York Times:
The day after Havana is invaded by the living dead, Juan and Sara emerge from their dilapidated apartment building to find the streets filled with people roving aimlessly, their wide eyes blank.
“It all looks the same to me,” Sara shrugs.
“Cuban reality is so incredible that there are things in the movie that seem like you made them up, but in fact they are based on truth,” said Alejandro Brugués, the 35-year-old director, who was born in Argentina but grew up in Cuba. “I just put zombies in the scenario, instead of real people.”
Mr. Brugués insisted that that the film is “social commentary, not political.”
Zombies in ‘Juan of the Dead’ Chomp on Cuba’s Sacred Cows - NYTimes.com
-
2011-12-05
(Source: csaflatfile)
-
2011-11-06
A crowd jockeying to board a carriage. A cart of chickens being wheeled by. Someone buying a bottle of Rail Neer. The very confident-sounding DING DING DONG of the loudspeaker as an announcement is made in a robotic female voice. People passing this way and that, carrying odds and ends. Occasionally, someone urinates on the tracks.
Benches are scare, so public seating is improvised. Passengers and their families sit on blankets spread about the platform, many sleeping. I hope they don’t miss their departures.
This is Old Delhi Station.
Old Delhi Train Station (by Anthony Albright)
-
Noted: One of my all-time favorite cars, India’s ubiquitous Hindustan Ambassador.
Calcutta at Night (by Anthony Albright)
-
2011-10-28
Making a rather symbolic statement, anti-greed demonstrators on October 15th took to occupying Times Square — America’s cathedral of corporate consumerism.
I found myself there, experiencing it. (Click on any image to see it larger.)
Times Square was in chaos — a kind unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.
It was a balance between a sea of waved signs and slogans chanted to drumbeat…
“THEY GOT BAILED OUT… WE GOT SOLD OUT!”
“WHOSE STREETS? OUR STREETS!”
…and policemen shouting into crackly megaphones:
“STAY ON THE SIDEWALK.”
“KEEP MOVING, PLEASE.”
“STAY OFF THE ROAD!!!”
I heard screams and gasps.
“He’s being arrested!,” exclaimed someone nearby me.
A crowd of photojournalists descended. I turned and managed to catch a glimpse of a handcuffed man wearing a bandana being rushed into a police van.
Arrested.
Holy hell, I couldn’t believe it. I’d never before seen someone actually get arrested, let alone right in front of me and in the midst of a gigantic crowd of demonstrators.
The people began chanting louder and faster,
“THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!”
“THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!”
“THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!”
A sea of cameraphones recording video were held high in the air aimed toward the cops.
I smiled, strangely excited. It all felt so Julian Assange-ish. I was finally encountering the shambling anarchist mass that I’d read so much about: Anonymous.
“How can they arrest someone for crossing the fucking street?,” a nearby woman asked of me.
“I just don’t know.”
* * *
The crowd thickened. We were squeezed together like sardines, pushed up against metal police barriers that were keeping us on the sidewalk and off the street.
More chanting, drumbeating. More people were pouring into the square by the minute. Double-decker tour buses drove by on the street, tourists on top of them snapping pictures of us.
* * *
I think we must have violated a police barrier — because it suddenly became clear to me that the police were clubbing people.
I watched as the people in front of me were beaten back from the street. They fell towards me. I consequently fell onto the people behind me. It was a human domino effect.
Ignited, everybody began chanting,
“THIS IS A NONVIOLENT PROTEST!”
“THIS IS A NONVIOLENT PROTEST!”
“THIS IS A NONVIOLENT PROTEST!”
I stood back up and tried to push my way backwards through the crowd — now scared by the imminent danger of being clubbed.
It wasn’t long, though, before I’d decided to face forward again. I held my camera high above my head, snapping pictures of what was going on up front. It looked like the worst of the clubbing had subsided.
I took a deep breath and realized that things were back to Occupy’s normal. No more clubbing, just loud protesting. For now.
As night fell, we came to be illuminated by the bright, glaringly ironic lights of Times Square’s billboards.
A man stood atop a traffic light.
As the evening wore on, I realized that I was having trouble focusing on what was being protested for because I was so enchanted by the process of protesting.
“SHOW ME WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE! THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!”
“A PEOPLE UNITED IS A PEOPLE UNDEFEATED!”
Everybody in the interconnected world is atwitter about the Occupy movement. What are their goals? Is it a liberal Tea Party? Will it work? Do they like Obama? Do Americans think favorably of them?
Sure, I’ve been pondering these questions, but as I wandered through Times Square and watched the movement play out, they’d been banished to the very back of my mind.
I was just completely absorbed in the… the… realness of it all.
This was something and I knew it.
Again, the police began to aggressively enforce the barrier between the sidewalk and the street — this time, with mounted policemen. Their horses were ridden right up against the crowd, making people back up or risk getting hooved by one.
“ANIMAL CRUELTY!,” somebody shouted.
“GET THOSE ANIMALS OFF OF THOSE HORSES!,” the receding crowd chanted at the policemen, taking it a step further.
I was chagrined.
I smiled, feeling reassured, as they soon stopped and instead began chanting,
“WE’RE FIGHTING FOR YOUR PENSIONS!”
-
2011-07-29
Enzo and His Bagels (by Anthony Albright)
