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Saturday, May 28, 2011

Sherman Alexie - War Dances One New Paltz Selection

Each year a committee of local bibliophiles selects a book and puts together a literary program for the community.

The selection for 2011 is War Dances by Sherman Alexie.   It is an award winning book by Alexis.   I'm looking forward to reading it, as I've enjoyed other books by Alexie.

We have it available at the shop or online.   Get a head start on your fall reading!

Friday, May 27, 2011

Schwinn Black Phantom Bicycle 1:6 Die Cast Model MINT

Mint condition 1:6 Model of the Schwinn Phantom


Includes Certificate of Authenticity and in the original box (which shows some minor wear,

Bicycle has rotating tires (rear driven y peddles); Front wheel turns

Beautiful collectible item.

Manufactured for Schwinn in 1990 by the Xonex company.


Thursday, May 26, 2011

Modern German Photographer - Cycloptic Veiwpoint

The Raumportraits of Menno Aden

Menno Aden has carried out aerial surveillance in Berlin. Cautiously & silently, he has positioned himself on the ceiling of 30 rooms in order to capture the imagery of everyday life. Now a shoe store, now a dentist’s office, now a storage closet, now a bedroom. He has obtained certain data that may contain clues for the detective work that his photo art requires of its viewers. His Raumportraits / Room Portraits harness the early 20th century technique of montage & direct it at the expression of “more than just rooms,” as Karen Helmsteidt has suggested, “but intimate scenes of life lived” – scenes that, let us add, depict human life without visually representing the body (1).

“At first the mostly deserted spaces and rooms look like scale models. Only after a closer look does one realize that the rooms are real,” remarks Uwe Goldenstein. This “impossible perspective”, moreover, is attained by attaching the camera to a monopod, hoisting the monopod to the hight of the ceiling & taking 100-150 images from multiple angles while stabilizing the camera at different points on an invisible grid. The images are then montaged until each pixel lines up flush with the next, giving the impression that only one photograph was ever taken & the feeling that the Eye of the Beholder is located precisely above each & ever inch of these human habitats.

The other night, after looking through Menno Aden’s Room Portraits for several hours, thinking about what they mean to say, wondering if they mean what they say, I fell into a restless sleep. Then, in the strangest dream, Menno Aden appeared to me as a Cyclops. A grotesque monster of gargantuan proportions. Yet, one that did not possess the fury that traditionally characterizes such beasts. No. This was a curious Cyclops who, on account of his great size, was only able to observe human life at his feet by removing his only eye from its socket & extending it downward in his hand. He directed that oversized eyeball, coated in saline secretions, at the house across the street from where I was standing – a house almost identical to all the others in the neighborhood. & suddenly a woman ran out of that house, shouting & shaking a cast-iron skillet: "Hey you! Up there! Hey, down here! At this house visitors enter through the front door!" I awoke in a sweat to the cackling of jackhammers.

In a video interview with The Deutsche Welle, the German artist explains the dual nature of his Raumportraits: “One the one hand, these are portraits of rooms; and on other other, they’re portraits of the individuals who live in them, even though you don’t actually see them. So the viewer can play detective, collect clues and figure out what kind of a person that is." & in that same interview we also learn about his technique: “what I want are lots of small individual shots which I can piece together like a puzzle... It never fails to surprise me. I always think ahead about what it will look like [when] seen from above, but somehow it always turns out to be completely different, or not necessarily completely different, but not what I was expecting.”

The view from above, Aden's downward gaze, gives rise to the notion of a divine perspective, a humanly impossible perspective. Hence, the apotheosis of the voyeur: "Aden's top view suggests God having an eye on private spaces. This omniscient [sic] point of view reduces the autonomy of 'my home is my castle' – the sketch of our personal way of life – to a provocative matter-of-fact level that immediately reveals private systems of order. The association of the ubiquitous observation camera is only too obvious.” & this, says Goldenstein, is what allows us to see these portraits as “secret retreats” that are “realistic and abstract at the same time” (3).

Tonight, as I sit here next to my bubbling aquarium & notice that the things in this room seem to make faces at me each time I look away from them, I cannot help but wonder if Aden's Room Portraits manage to let each portrayed object speak for itself without being asked or obliged to? I throw this question against a wall & catch it on the rebound. If everyone in the world all at once were to go on a secret retreat, would it still be secret? Would there be anywhere to retreat to? Anywhere to escape from? Coiling silences ensnare my thoughts & a sudden feeling of dread fills my lungs with more air than they can hold. I am being watched! Menno Aden! The Cyclops! No. It's just the neighbors. So I sit back down alongside my bubbling aquarium, drop some flakes into the water, & as the fish surface to feed, I get a profound urge to look those fish of mine square in their big round eyes.

Joseph Mulligan
New Paltz, NY

*Illustration by Beatriz Sosa, The Cyclops and His Eye, 2011, graphite on paper.
(1) His recent exhibitions include the Solo Show, "Spurensuche" at Galerie Lesmeister in Regensburg (2011); "AAF" at Galerie Lesmeister in Milan (2011); "Stand der Dinge", with Juliane Eirich, Gudrun Kemsa et al. at Galerie Schuster Photo in Berlin (2011); "ArtFair 21" at Galerie Schuster in Cologne (2010); "Volta6 Show" at Deák Erika Galéria in Basel (2010); "Contemporary Art Ruhr" at Galerie ArtAffair in Essen (2010); the Solo Show "Raumportraits" at Galerie Schuster Photo in Berlin (2010); "RaumFormen" at Galerie ArtAffair in Regensburg (2010); “The Universe is not your Friend, Babe”, with Steffi Stangl and Jessica Buhlmann at Deák Erika Galéria in Budapest; "New Homeland" at Kasseler Architekturzentrum im Kulturbahnhof in Kassel (2010); “Urban Life” at PopUp195 Photogalerie in Berlin (2010).
(2) The “Shoe Shop”, which we reproduce above with the artist’s permission, calls to mind Van Gough’s renown Shoes, in that both portray human beings in material terms of labor.
(3) See Uwe Goldenstein's commentary & all of Menno Adens Room Portraits at

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Awosting Alchemy 4th Issue May'd Music

Awosting Alchemy is a local literary magazine available online.   We're proud supporters of this Hudson Valley gem, and encourage you to take a look/read.

Each issue is beautifully presented and features some great local talent.

And hey--it's a free read.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Pink Flamingos Sneak into Mohonk for the Day

As you may know New Paltz has been taken by the Flamingo craze.

We at Barner Books are pleased to offer the pair of Flamingos for $12.50 (that's for two).

Our store flamingos recently had an adventure by visiting our Venerable neighbor--the Mohonk Mountain House.

Check out our slide show of the adventures of Huge (pronounced HUGEE) and Not.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Gustavo Faveron Patriau - NOVEL - Review

The Antiquarian by Gustavo Faverón Patriau

Few projects in prose these days are as bold as Gustavo Faverón Patriau's El anticuario / The Antiquarian, published by Peisa last October in Lima & Santiago. While the Peruvian's literary & social criticism has made waves in Hispanic circles, his first novel marks a new achievement in the literature of the Americas, finding a way to harmonize narrative traditions from South & North, by stitching together terrifying narrations a violent patch-worked murder plot to produce what, for all intensive purposes, can be called a postmodern gothic thriller.

From the outset we learn that Daniel has killed Juliana, more than three years ago, & has been sent to a sanitarium. Gustavo, Daniel's long-time friend & confidant, is determined to figure out how & why he killed her. The investigation is carried out on both external & internal registers, comprised of conversations & interrogations with conspicuous characters as well as steadfast cerebrations, speculations, proofs, & deductions that are elaborated in the mind of Gustavo.

To bring the literary gothic tradition up to date, Faverón Patriau, while writing in Spanish, shows a clear affinity for Edgar Poe & has innovated the genre by implementing fragmented narrative techniques that are reminiscent of Boom literature. In Faverón Patriau's project of innovating that gothic thread, there is an echo of José Lezama Lima's resuscitation of the Baroque. But here, we have a gripping tale that questions the limits of friendship, fraternity & human pain, where the consolation for struggle is found in the shared pursuit of knowledge.

El anticuario takes place in an unnamed city, a coastal city, a thinly-masked Lima, where night falls as the fog rolls enveloping the metropolis with its saline breath. This is the location for the story of Gustavo, a psycho-linguist whose wife has passed away from cancer before the story begins, & of his close friend, Daniel, a bibliophile whose encyclopedic memory constantly leads him into anecdotal digressions that offer the reader stories within the story. The other protagonists include Sophia, Daniel's sister; Juliana, Daniel's girlfriend; Adela, Daniel & Juliana's maid; Huk, a female mental patient; & then Mireaux, Yanaúma, & Gálvez, co-owners of The Circle, a book store where the rarest of objects & services can be acquired, always for a price. Finally & centrally, there is a character that goes by the name of The Antiquarian, likely the most poetic persona of the drama. We can look to the author for a succinct description of him:

“The Antiquarian is the type of man who cloisters himself in a tower of books and sun-faded bundles of paper, ever a stranger to the world around him. He reads about the life of the deceased in octavo tomes, printed in venerable languages, and he studies both time and space without exposing himself to the inclemency of neither time nor space: a prisoner, surrounded by columns of printed paper, illegible scribbles, oriental characters, each moment of humanity available to him in alphabetical order lining the walls of his room, immune to everything save for his gaze. Thirty years of his life has he consumed in this place, from which he escapes by himself after nightfall. With a book in his hand and a finger saving his page, the Antiquarian most carefully verifies the similarities and differences between the physical world and the world that he knows by memory from the books...”

Faverón Patriau makes literary use of terror, not as theme, not on a decadent whim that elicits an exploration of the grotesque (i.e. not limited to scatology), nor even as a socio-political platform upon which another writer might have espoused a mundane ideology. For Faverón Patriau terror is a vehicle that facilitates a penetrating investigation into the reality of human suffering & camaraderie. In this way & in El anticuario, the same road that leads into the nether regions of the world, where violence reigns in a gruesome depiction of reality, also leads into the Self, where internalized ethical dimensions of being are examined with no less rigor. Such we see in one passage where the Antiquarian practices his lifelong vocation:

“The Antiquarian reads: an elderly man lays down in his bed to slumber and to his surprise awakens in a cubical container of straw and wood, three feet in length on each side, a yard and a half in height, it is dark inside, and there is a tiny hole in each wall, one of which affords a vista into a military encampment, toward a meadow with patches of grass and arid soil. The elderly personage looks through that hole without recognizing anyone, but he hears the metallic clanging of certain artifacts whereupon he comes to the realization: in the meadow there are hundreds of women and girls, prostrate and facing the sky. Their bodies go through an intricate system of pumps and gears, the legendary torture chamber and its rape machine. A voice says kill me, why should I live any longer? [...] He falls back asleep only to awaken again in the cubical container from the night before, enclosed by the walls of the military encampment, but this time he discovers a flashlight on the floor, and directs its cone of sepia toned light toward the meadow where he identifies a portion of the machinery, a metallic chain studded with miniature steel bolts and pulleys that creak as they turn. At the end of a conveyer belt, he sees the trembling body of one woman, one among the many, and sees the face of one killer, one among the many, and he recognizes that face as his own.”

Similar side-stories also come from the mouth of Daniel who can only quell his own nervous, jabbering anxiety by recounting stories, histories & tales that he has learned from books. What is remarkable of these seeming deviations is that, through the course of the novel, they acquire essential & symbolic meanings. Moreover, we often do not hear these stories directly from him, but from other people, like his business partner, Gálvez, for example,  as we read in Chapter 11:

“In the Chinese province of Changzhou, said Daniel, there is a town called Jiangso, where a boy was born toward the end of the sixteenth century and was named Feng Menlong. Barely a young man, Feng Menlong became a traveling poet and writer of fantastic tales that he published in 1604 under the title Yushing Mingyang, that is, Illustrious Words to Instruct the World. In 1615, he had a child with a strong-minded and insolent vagabond, who who lived with him until one day in 1617, when, after confirming that their child was crippled and would never surpass forty centimeters in height, Fen Menlong killed her with a blade used to slaughter rams. He left her curled up, her back resting on a tree, at the intersection of two roads in the outskirts of Jiangso, so that the ravens would devour her. Concern for the fate of his son, Feng Menlong in his house built a rectangular room with bamboo corners, reinforced with chestnut and walls made of ash and eucalyptus planks. He locked the boy in there and twice a year put him to sleep with a beverage that he purchased at the neighboring village, in order to work by night and tear down the room only to build it again, subtracting half a foot in height from each wall, each baseboard, each edge of the ceiling, so that when the boy awoke the following morning, he would feel that he had astonishingly grown a half foot in height in just one night. Since he himself was the only point of reference capable of giving away the story, Feng Menlong forbade his son from seeing him, a prisoner in that room without any doors or windows or other openings than the slot through which twice daily his meals were served to him and the septic well where he would urinate and defecate, which was cleaned by the father himself only when each remodeling project was being carried. When Feng Menlong died, since no one in Jiangso suspected the existence of that son whom everyone believed to have disappeared with his mother, the child remained locked up in that personal world that his father had constructed for him, which by then was barely an isomorphic cube measuring half a meter on each side: the coffin he would rest in months later when they carried him off for burial.”

What we have before us “is undoubtedly a cerebral work saturated with recherche references, where reading and criticism are fundamental practices,” writes Luis Hernán Castañeda is his review, “Un puente entre las islas del terror” (A Bridge between the Isles of Terror), published in La Mula, “however El anticuario is not a cold text, but a tour de force, as intellectual as it is visceral, as cosmopolitan as it is deeply rooted in Peru.” This psychological thriller invites the reader to flex the intellect & experience a rare & admirable emotional charge by playing the role of the detective.

The story of Gustavo's unbridled search for the truth is interjected by narrations of past encounters with Daniel. The significance of these anecdotes & vignettes, at times, may seem dubious, but, as one finds out in the latter chapters of the book, Daniel's seeming blither is in fact quite meaningful – perhaps one could go so far as to say that it is even too meaningful. As the investigation continues & Gustavo is no longer permitted to visit Daniel face to face in the sanitarium, the lead investigator, Vicario, grants him the opportunity to interview other patients whom Daniel has come to know during his lengthy internment.

These interviews are all carried out in the presence of Vicario, & Gustavo, psycho-linguist that he is, records the verbal interactions so that he can study the language of the patients after the fact, in search of a clue that may shed light on Daniel's motives & unravel the mystery of the heinous crime(s). One of the patients, writes Faverón Patriau, was a man who “must have been around 50 years of age; he was wearing a rather dirty blue and threadbare suit, and on his neck there danced the greasy tassel of his bangs which he combed over his forehead to disguise his baldness.” This man, supposedly sent by Daniel to communicate to Gustavo essential information, offers this:

“That's what Daniel told me: in a certain place there's a man and three women, that's what there is, nothing else, that night and every night. You've got to reduce the factors; don't get distracted, reduce. That's what Daniel suggested. So in a certain place there's a man and three women, and that's it. A man and a triad, a trinity, a triumvirate, a triacle, a tripod, a triplane, a tricycle, a triplet, a trio of women. Does that ring a bell? That's what Daniel asked me. And this is what he said: in a certain place there's a man and three women. They have a history. I was just a kid, a calf, a colt and I had three women...”

Confused & frustrated, Gustavo reflects, “The rest of my questions obtained the same response. I listened to the recording closely, scouring it for some difference that might express the poor man's desire to alter his speech; but there was none: only the same words in the same sequence, with identical pauses, a prison that he had constructed around himself and would not think of escaping.” Gustavo's responsibility to decipher such messages, codes & signs is, at once, passed on to the reader, who, as when reading Poe's The Purloined Letter, is tasked with piecing together the facts of a seemingly incongruous reality.

El anticuario reminds us that artificial or synthetic writing still has its place in literature today, when implemented strategically & in good measure. It is a story that sends the reader into the far corners of the world that is contained in the mind & the soul of its characters whose frustrated search for meaning is in concert with one's own. This is one of the book's great achievements: it demands tenacious speculation of the reader; for, even though Faverón Patriau writes & the reader of this book will certainly feel, “some winding roads don't lead anywhere, & some strait roads don't lead anywhere either”, venturing down those roads is an illuminating experience.

Joseph Mulligan
New Paltz, NY
Copies of El Anticuario can be purchased here. Faverón Patriau is the author of Rebeldes: Sublevaciones indígenas y naciones emergentes en Hispanoamérica en el siglo XVIII, Toda la sangre. Antología de cuentos peruanos sobre la violencia política & coauthor of Bolaño salvaje. El escritor ante la crítica. Faverón Patriau is author of one of the most widely read blogs of contemporary Peruvian writers, Puente Aéreo. He is an Assistant Professor of Romance Languages at Bowdoin College in Maine.

Joseph Mulligan is a poet & translator of César Vallejo, Oliverio Girondo, Jorge Eduardo Eielson, Alejandra Pizarnik, Pierre Joris & Gustavo Faverón Patriau. He recently published the first English translation of Against Professional Secrets / Contra el secreto profesional by César Vallejo. He posts regularly on his blog The Smelting Process.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

New Paltz has Pink Flamingo Fever Original Featherstone Design

New Paltz is being whipped up into a furry over the Pink Flamingo Craze.

Yes, this vestige of the 50's and 60's has made a comeback.   It is an exact replica of the originals that were out -- the company that is producing the reproductions bought the original molds.   So all of us have the opportunity to pick up some of these decorations.

Books have been written to chronicle the craze.

We're glad at Barner Books to be continuing the craze, and will be posting images of the flamingos around New Paltz.

Monday, May 16, 2011

SIGNED 1st 127 Hours Aron Ralson - Between a Rock and Hard Place .99

Up for Auction

Signed copy of:   Between a Rock and a Hard Place

 Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Author:  Aron Ralston

Published:  2004

1st Edition and Printing (Full Number line)

SIGNED on the title page.  Signed on a signature plate

Condition:  Near fine book and dust jacket condition.   Slight edgewear on the book, and some light soiling on the upper edge of the book (quite minor).

Friday, May 13, 2011

Handmade Buffalo Leather Journal with Courtney Davis Centerpieces

Just in - Buffalo Leather Journals that are handmade.

Each journal is 5x7 and has a centerpiece designed by well known Celtic artist, Courtney Davis.

The journals feature

Acid Free paper
Paper Free Paper (Linen)
Tri-fold design with a leather lace tie

They are available on our website (click the picture you're interested in below) or at the store.   Limited edition and a truly beautiful and unique journal.

Click the journal to learn more about the Dragonfly Journal

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Two First Printings Tennessee Williams & Faulkner .99

We just started auctions on two mass market paperbacks.

Each are in very good shape and are first printings of two great American classics.   They are the first paperback printings.

Available with a starting bid of .99 are:

A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams

The Wild Palms - by William Faulkner

Monday, May 9, 2011

Marvin BuGaLu Smith Local Drum Great & Jazz Man


Marvin Smith is all head & feet. This masterful jazz drummer, a Mid-Hudson resident for the last 10 years, a man who goes by the name of BuGaLu, is that ole cantankerous cat you’ll hear trash-talking lethargic wannabes to the hammers of his understudies’ ears at taverns teeming with chance. One day, a number of years ago, a young musician had lit his fuse, & hurling caution to tornadoes, Marvin was spitting out sparks in a pool of gasoline. “Them cats be livin’ in Candyland, man!...” he shouted at me, adding “they think they all that when they can’t play their way outta’ paper bag...”
BuGaLu was fed up with that young musician who thought the world of himself & expected the world to do the same. BuGaLu was on fire, his voice powerfully rising. He shot rejoinders in blasts of vituperative gunpowder. He screamed into the mouthpiece of his cell phone, then, aiming at me. When flames curled out his nostrils, I heard the call to action & instinctively threw a bucket of water on him.

I was pleased to read Ron Petrides’ recent article on Marvin, published last February in Modern Drummer magazine. This musician, one of the few who can say he sat under the high-hat of the greats until they let him play, Marvin grew up studying under his older brother Earl “Buster” Smith, who played with Eric Dolphy & Oscar Petiford. Visits by hard-hitters like Roy Haynes, Charlie Persip & Donald Byrd were common at the Smith house. At the age of 19, BuGaLu went to California for a gig that, underfunded as it was, changed his 2 week stint into a 2 year stay. During his time in California he was introduced to Nichiren Buddhism & chant, “Nam Myo Ho Renge Kyo”. After working with funk bands through the late 1960s, BuGaLu then opened a new chapter of his life when left the U.S. for Italia.

There he played with Rocky Roberts, who then was singing soul music in Italian. The group was widely popular & played all across Europe. While in Italy, Marvin started a drum school & also played with his own group Life Force Inc (Karl Potter, congas; Larry Dinwittie, tenor sax; & Marvin’s wife, Patrizia Scascitelli, piano). In Europe he played with great jazz greats like Art Farmer, Chet Baker & Charles Mingus. It was also then that his lasting friendship with Max Roach first took root (1).

When Marvin returned to the U.S in the early 1980s he was hired by Archie Shepp & toured the world with his band (2). One night while playing a gig across the street from the club where Sun Ra was coincidentally playing, between sets BuGaLu went to check out Sun Ra & his band. He was invited to sit in & a new journey began: “Sun Ra paid me $100 that night & said ‘see ya tomorrow night’“, recalls BuGaLu with lively effusion. Tomorrow night quickly turned into several years, & Marvin traveled all over with this band too.

His return to the U.S. with the new millennium brought him to the Hudson Valley, & a now seasoned BuGaLu blew up New Paltz in 2001 while sitting in with professors of the Jazz Studies Program at the club Oasis. Two students of that program, Andrew Greeney & Kesai Riddick have developed into drummers of a higher breed, since they have been thrown, have requested permission to dive, into the oft-dreaded deep water. The Andrew Greeney Jazz Quartet plays all over the Hudson Valley & is currently lighting up Rhinebeck’s Zen Dog Cafe on a regular basis.

To become one of Marvin’s students it is necessary to do more than simply pay for lessons & show up on time. It requires arduous technical training, spiritual exploration & an unyielding desire to decipher where & how the rhythms of the universe participate in a single polyrhythm. Marvin’s music is similar to Gospel music in its upward movement; but whereas Gospel music is uplifting (as if from a hand above), Marvin’s music is an uprising, self-empowered & empowering.

BuGaLu’s method for keeping the bar way up is the jam session, where he brings masters of jazz to his workshop so that his students can & must jump in the “deep water”, where they are forced out of their comfort zone & into new territories, different times & feels... While for a relatively inexperienced student this can be frightening & embarrassing, BuGaLu maintains that growth in music is possible by getting in over one’s head. With regards to his own early & trying years, BuGaLu remarks, “I got sent home from the jam sessions in New York every night for 20 years... & the cats sending me home wasn’t no light weights either! I got sent home by cats like Lee Morgan & Roy Haynes.” When he says ‘sent home’ he means that there were players at the jam session who towered over him & made him feel like he wasn’t playing at all. What he learned, & what he teaches now to his students, has much to do about transformation: “I become the shape of what I’m hearing”, says BuGaLu, “& flow like the waves coming in & out.”

But that is it! Not fire! Not the fear that BuGaLu, while ranting about some not so up & coming euthyphronian drummer, with ire like I’ve never seen, would actually burst into flames before my eyes in rancorous & fatal combustion; but because he was not on fire that day & is not, as I had thought, a cantankerous cat at all. Not even feline. No. This man is a cephalopod (perhaps an octopus or giant squid), with his sharpened depth perception & ability to camouflage while using his tentacles to reach equilibrium in the undulating currents of the jazz aquatic. Yes. Ecco il polpo, davvero! This BuGaLu, this coleoidean cephalopod whose molluscan shell has been internalized & now is absent altogether. Curious to this class of musicians is the presence of statocysts, which permit a drummer like Marvin to listen with his tentacles. Hence, the fusion of sound perception & mobility.

As an aquatic relative of the terrestrial chameleon, BuGaLu is capable of completely camouflaging into his surroundings. Yes. I now know for sure. This is why I threw a bucket of water on Marvin BuGaLu Smith that day: because, while his camouflage is made possible in part by chromatophores, which modulate the brightness & design of his un-shelled exterior in relation to the background they see, it is also made possible by other cells, like iridophores & leucophores that reflect light from the environment.

Marvin’s online presence (3) is astounding with his YouTube Channel & Vimeo Channel where you’ll find a whopping 1000 + videos, from jam sessions to lessons, concerts &, in general, a wealth of jazz for any enthusiast, player or student. But seeing BuGaLu live is an altogether different & richer experience. Hold on to your hats & catch him in the act at Fat Cat in Manhattan, where he plays once or twice a month with jazz legend George Braith.

Joseph Mulligan
New Paltz, NY

(1) It was during his time in Italy that he also began his friendship with Max Roach. “Larry, Karl, & I were at the Duomo & we saw this black cat across the street. I said, ‘that cat looks a lot like Max man’ & it was. Max didn’t know where to go to eat & enjoy his time in Rome so BuGaLu showed him around & a great friendship began. “Max bought us all dinner that day.” For more on this, see the interview with Piero Borri.
(2) The band included Santi Debriano on Bass & Kenny Werner on Piano. Their Album “Down Home New York“ won album of the year, 1984, in Downbeat magazine.
(3) The best way to stay up on performances is through the musician’s Facebook Account, which is updated regularly with news, show listings, jam sessions & as many video clips as one could ask for. 


Saturday, May 7, 2011

Vintage 1960's Knickerbocker Beer Sign .99

Auction just starting!

We just listed a very cool beer sign -- not quite literary--but it sure would be nice in a library.

Knickerbocker Lighted Beer Sign With Clock

Working condition with Flourescent light

Measures:  15" x 6" x 5"

Sign is in excellent condition.   Clear letters.   Section for store advertisement etc (opposite the clock)

Serial number indicates that the sign is from 1961.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Mystery Imagination Suspense Collins & Poe Set

Folio Society of England brought together a wonderful collaboration in 1990.

Suspense writer Wilkie Collins and his book entitled:  "Tales of Suspense"

& Edgar Allen Poe; "Tales of Mystery and Imagination"

In the true Folio style the book was boxed in a specially made slipcase, and the covers match each other.

A beautiful collectible.