Kader Attia The Oubliée Bag (2024) uncovers a treasure trove of family memories, using photographs and archival material buried in three suitcases to uncover stories about the history of Algeria's struggle for independence. The question of cultural memory—and its theft—is raised in a series of collages that accompany the film, in which images of West African sculptures are torn apart—as if blown apart by the explosive violence of colonialism—and reassembled together with images and texts from European art catalogs. These works bear an inevitable and deliberate similarity to European artistic traditions indebted to African sculpture (e.g. Picasso and Braque). But the script was flipped; the right to memory, to cultural heritage – this is already a fragment.—Zoe Hopkins (Lehmann Maupin; until December 20)
Dance
The Dutch National Ballet performs “The Chairman Dances” by Ted Brandsen.Photo by Mark Hegeman.
For Dutch National Ballet This is their first major tour to New York since the eighties, and they'll be bringing with them a signature selection that includes works by Jiri Kylian, Ted Brandsen (director since 2003), and South African choreographer Mthuthuzeli November, unknown in the States, as well as a trio of works by the company's preeminent artist, ninety-three-year-old choreographer Hans van Manen. Alexei Ratmansky became a fellow choreographer, and his new “Trio Kagel,” set to accordion music by the Argentine composer Mauricio Kagel, appears in the same program along with Jerome Robbins’ intimate Chopin suite “Other Dances,” performed by the soulful Olga Smirnova and Jacopo Tissi, who left the Bolshoi Theater at the beginning of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.Marina Harss (City Center; November 20-22)
Movies
When director Charlie Shackleton couldn't get the rights to a true-crime book he planned to adapt into a documentary, he did the next best thing: make a movie about the movie he wanted to make. Result, “Project Zodiac Killer” It is both a fascinating look at a real-life investigation and a wry critique of the prevailing clichés of true crime documentaries. The book under review by Lyndon E. Lafferty chronicles the author's daring attempts to solve the infamous case. Shackleton's voiceover monologue about what he'd like to film is linked to sly images of relevant locations and objects, depicting Lafferty's wild story while avoiding breaking the book. Shackleton's hypothetical method, at once exuberant and restrained, with its cautious pursuit of pipe dreams, represents a step forward in first-person cinema.Richard Brody (opens November 21)
Bar tab
Taran Dugal enjoys a liquid three-course meal followed by dinner on the Lower East Side.
Illustration by Patricia Bolaños
Manhattan's newest bars are aging like dogs. What begins with excitement and exaltation often ends with a feeling of resignation and familiarity. Double chicken please The inventive Lower East Side cocktail bar, which opened in 2020, is an exception, with lines still stretching down the block most nights. On a recent evening, a pair of newcomers sat in the Coop Bar, the establishment's luxurious back room, replete with mid-century modern furniture and bass-heavy house music. Pink lighting shone over the chicken-themed decor, adding a humorous touch to the elegant space filled with talkative hipsters. The duo chose a three-course dinner from the drinks menu, which included twelve cocktails reminiscent of classic dishes. Their appetizer, Japanese cold noodles, was sweet and frosty with a nice hint of umami; The main one, the Cold Pizza, tasted eerily similar to its namesake: a heady mix of tequila, tomatoes and basil. Dessert, however, turned things around: The French toast, a vodka-infused treat served with homemade cookies layered with chocolate coffee ganache, was creamy and frothy, with a slight hint of bitterness that reminded them that this was, in fact, a cocktail and not a milkshake. Once the liquid food was ready, they started on the real food: a hearty, filling grilled chicken bolognese cheese sandwich and a Big Mac, a treat made into a hamburger with chocolate ice cream, macaroni, yuzu and mochi. As night fell, a festive atmosphere reigned; one table screamed as the finicky former bartender joined them for a drink and returned to the bar, high-fiving his colleagues. Another guest finished her French toast and, licking her lips, voiced the cliché echoing in the minds of others: “Man, we're damn lucky to live in New York.”
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