I Say Ichiro
Local publisher TNI Books, headed by Adam Voith, will produce an unauthorized specialty book about Ichiro for David Shields. Shields, who is the author of Black Planet, a kind of meditation on race and basketball, describes the new "mini-instant-book" as a collection of quotes from the baseball player. "Nearly every day [Ichiro is] quoted in the paper saying something wonderfully unhyperbolic, sane, funny, intelligent, modest, anti-hype," Shields says. "I'm gathering these quotes into a little wisdom-book." In Arts News imagines the book will be very similar to an essay by Shields that compiled bumper-sticker slogans into a very funny free-association narrative. The book will be available from TNI (tni-books.com) in mid August, and it will be titled Baseball is Just Baseball: The Understated Ichiro. TRACI VOGEL
Art on the Street
The lovely thing about lowered expectations is that when they are exceeded, it is all the sweeter. In Arts News made one such discovery last First Thursday, when we were elbowing our way along Occidental Ave, which was crowded to high heaven with mobs of single women, earnest culture-seekers, and legions of street artists, their mostly uninteresting work spread out on the sidewalk and leaned against trees.
Then we found Sam Trout. He sat behind a modest spread of drink coasters laid out on a blanket. These were in very mod shades of bright yellow and red and sage green, and each had a drawing, charming and at the same time a little sinister. One was nearly empty, but for a lonely piece of Swiss cheese in the corner; another had a lawn mower, and many had these elements combined with an open-mouthed little girl called Lula. One, a deft cartoon of a man, was very much in the graffiti style of TWIST. Unfortunately, In Arts News had no money.
Trout, who shyly doled out free stickers and buttons with Lula's image on them, is a former art student who has done illustrations for lots of different newspapers. He has an upcoming album cover (Death Cab for Cutie), which will probably catapult him into cult-illustrator status, à la Edwin Fotheringham. Catch him now, while you can still afford him. Next First Thursday, we're going to find him again. This time, with money in hand. EMILY HALL
The Dream Life of Sean
In its very first "America's Best" issue, venerable old Time magazine (the Paul Harvey of print) paints a barely discernible patina of nobility on People's "celebrity list" formula by extolling the nation's single best comedian (Chris Rock), TV host (Jon Stewart), songwriter (Lucinda Williams), movie star (Julia Roberts), actor, artist, singer, blah blah blah. Though the choices aren't bad (a bit late, maybe), the juxtaposition of bedfellows in the "rock band" and "novelist" categories reveals just how schizophrenic a publication can be. One seldom expects to find the unimpeachable righteousness of lady punk trio Sleater-Kinney celebrated on the same list as the lionlike, unrelentingly male, moral, and masterful prose of Philip Roth. (Even if the section on the author is riddled with misspellings.) It's as hard to imagine the offices of Time blaring "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" as it is to imagine Sleater-Kinney picking up the issue and saying, "Finally, a little mainstream recognition!" But goddamn, Time, were you reading my diary? SEAN NELSON
