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Be like the Beckhams: eat cupcakes.  Sugar Sweet Sunshine is your best bet for your cupcake fix. Last week, The New York Post broke the news that the latest installment of Zagat rated Sugar Sweet Sunshine as the winner of its new Best Cupcake category.

My sister, who is obsessed with all things cupcakes, has long extolled the virtues of Sugar Sweet Sunshine, and I have to agree it takes the cake. She likes the Sunshine (yellow cake with vanilla buttercream) and I like the Ooey Gooey (Chocolate cake with chocolate almond buttercream) because not only is it yummy in my tummy but it’s also fun to say. Pumpkin (Pumpkin cake with cream cheese icing) seemed to be the crowd pleaser on our most recent indulgence, and we’ve noticed that the Red Velvet and Pistachio are also ordered a lot. Cupcakes are $1.50 each.  We don’t like the coffee, though, which is unfortunate.

Nestled in at 126 Rivington Street (between Essex & Norfolk), the store has a vintagey seventies vibe that is more chic than kitch. It doesn’t have a lot of seats, but there are a smattering of chairs and ottomans. There’s also art by local artists hanging on the wall.

One of the best things about Sugar Sweet Sunshine is that they’re open late. Here are their hours: Monday-Thursday, 8am-10pm, Friday 8am-11pm, Saturday 10am-11pm and Sunday 10am-7pm. Sugar Sweet Sunshine is a delicious alternative to the bar scene that’s so prevalent on the Lower East Side.

Atrocity. The word alone conjurs up brutal horror laced with sadness. The Atrocity Exhibition crashed into Thierry Goldberg Projects (5 Rivington Street, NYC) on June 28 and will continue to break you out of your sense of disillusionment until August 28.

For Ahmed Alsoudani, atrocity is the violence of war going on in his homeland of Iraq.

For Ben Grasso, it’s an explosion.

For Molly Larkey, it’s the atom bomb.

For Wendy Heldmann, the aftermath of an atrocity can be just as devastating as the actual event.

As if to extend their disparate examples of atrocities, the artists use different mediums — drawing, sculpture, painting — to make their statements. Some are brutally lifelike, others are abstract. No matter what the subject matter, method, or style, the result is always the same: the works underscore our own humanity in the face of terror.

When an art exhibit gets extended, it’s worth taking notice. That’s the case with Sarah Peters’ Being American. The exhibit was supposed to close at Winkleman Gallery (637 West 27th Street, New York) this Saturday, but it’s been extended until next Friday, July 27. For her first-time having a solo exhibition in a city that eats, sleeps, and breaths art, that’s a noble accomplishment.

What makes Being American impressive is Peters’ ability to look past herself as a comtemporary American artist to argue that it took a lot of bad art to get to where we are today in the art world. She question the very foundations of art in the United States as she considers the failed aesthetic ideals of the eighteenth century.

Through a series of hurried black-and-white drawings, Peters shows the rejected, castaway works of time gone by. It’s a landscape of passionate yet abortive attempts to create beauty that was based on European eccentricities. She even includes a bust that although is a self-portrait actually references William Rush, America’s first classical sculpture.

Being American has been getting rave reviews from critics, so go see for yourself what all the fuss is about. And we want to know what you think: Apart from its critique on early art, does Being American aesthetically hold up its own values?

Off with their heads! …Okay, so Bastille Day isn’t actually about decapitating people. On July 14, 1789, the citizens of France had had enough of Louis the 16th’s tyrany. They stormed the Bastille, a prison that held people who were outspoken enough to oppose the French monarchy. (Imagine all the American citizens that would go to jail today for criticizing Bush….) As it turned out, there were only seven people in the jail at that time, and none of them were famous. Still, it was a symbolic gesture that marked the start of the French Revolution.

Bastille Day celebrations were held around the world this past weekend, and New York got in on the action with a “Street Fair with French Flair” on Sunday. Unfortunately, that’s about all it was. Held on Sixtieth Street from Fifth to Lexington Avenue, it was your typical ethnic street fair. The main draw seemed to be the food tents, which had long lines. They served up typical French fare, typified by crepes and pastries, including the decadent and pricey chocolates by Payard.
There were also a few French bands — The Penelopes, Poni Hoax, and Frustration – along with DJ sets. The acts that were playing whenever I walked by were really unimpressive. They were loud and looked very indie — not the cool, we’re signed to Saddle Creek or French Kiss type of indie, but the “will play for food” type of indie. They looked cool from their promotional photos, though, so maybe I’ll check them out on MySpace next time I get bored.
There were also some sports things, which I ignored. If you’re interested in soccer and cycling, check it out on your own time.
The radical, activist spirit of Bastille and the beautiful culture of France were missing from the street fair.

Anyone else attend the Bastille Day street fair? Were the bands any better when you saw them? Did you see the Cancan dancers? What was the best crepe?

There was also a celebration in Brooklyn? Any feedback on that one?

Last night’s opening for No New Tale to Tell marked not just an impressive, thought-provoking exhibit, but also 31GRAND’s first show in their new gallery at 143 Ludlow Street in Manhattan.  And the masses came out to celebrate.

Whether they knew about the event beforehand or just happened to pop in to see what all the fuss was about, the downtown twenty-something gang was out in all its glory.  It was a calm, cool crowd that packed the multi-room gallery.  The type that sprung one self-absorbed guy who thought it would be okay to light a cigarette in an oppressively hot room filled with sweaty bodies, when common gallery-going experience clearly dictates otherwise.  Backs practically pressed up againts the paintings, well-dressed people stood obstructing the view of the artwork.  Networking, flirting, socializing, the masses spilled out onto the sidewalk and across the street.

The crowd gathered with good reason: the rather large collection of works clinging to the walls inspire the imagination.  Anthony Pontius’ The Great Rescue drifts towards the surreal if not postmodern in its collaging of reality and the illogical.  Ryan McLennan’s Gather and Adam Stennett’s Underwater Mouse 2 evoke auras of fantasy through its soft, mesmerizing style even though they are clearly rooted in perillous realities.  Ursual Brookbank’s BR.FLR. has a captivating movie-like quality of beautifully capturing a moment in time.  Alessandra and Alex Exposito each paint animal skulls bubble-gum pink as if they were designing wall adornments for a bratty teenage girl in the Southwest.  Meanwhile, Magalie Guerin’s Montreal/Afternoons  and Damaged seem ripped from a Victorian leatherbound book.

Those are the highlights, but there are many other multi-media artworks on display. There was enough there to intrigue me that I would go again to get a better look when the crowds are busy at some other opening.

Have you ever watched the reality tv show On The Lot?  It’s a hack show about the search for Hollywood’s next top director … produced by Steven Spielberg.  Gary Marshall, Carrie Fisher, and a guest judge play Simon, Randy, and Paula.  Every Monday you watch—and vote for!—a mini movie by the aspiring directors.  It’s better than watching reruns of cheesy sitcoms on competing stations, but the movies are none too inspired despite the directors’ hard efforts and use of famous actors, like the dad from Family Matters.

That basically sums up my feelings of Paris, Je T’aime. 

Some very famous and talented directors have each more or less made insipid short films around the gimmick—er, theme—of Paris as a backdrop.  Among the twenty directors are the Coen Brothers, Gus Van Sant, Wes Craven, Gérard Depardieu, and Christopher Doyle.  The cast of Natalie Portman, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Elijah Wood, Nick Nolte, Juliette Binoche, Rufus Sewell, Gena Rowlands, Miranda Richardson, and Steve Buscemi, to name a few is equally impressive. 

The films, however, are surprisingly trite for their celebrated roster.  To say that one film involves a mime and another a vampire should fairly easily indicate the tacky nature of the subject matter.  For the most part, it felt like I was watching one of those esoteric foreign films that plays on PBS at three in morning that defines the general public’s perception of idiosyncratic intellectualism.    

Because they are so short, the films relied on cheap tugs of the heartstring to quickly relay their messages of loneliness, love, fear, and bliss. Occasionally, one of the short films in Paris, Je T’aime hit the mark.  A vignette would capture the innocence or the brutality of love.  The complexities of a character could be beautifully poignant.  And just as you were getting swept up into the emotion of a story, it would abruptly end and fade into the next film, leaving you no time to pause and consider its message.

Despite its title, Paris, Je T’aime does little to make you fall in love with Paris or make you understand its distinct personality.  It could have easily taken place in any other metropolitan city.

Starless Nights — that’s what I’d call the Museum of Natural History’s Starry Nights Live Jazz. I thought since it was held in the Rose Center, they’d turn the lights all low and fill the planetarium with a dazzling display of constellations. Instead, there was the understated decor of white tables and candles underneath the planetarium. It looked elegant but there was hardly any seating for the packed event. Security even harassed me for sitting on the floor (I was the first or the only one), till I moved a whole 5 inches to the side.

Complaints aside, Starry Nights is a must-attend summer event.  For a mere $4, I got a filling tapas platter of cheese, bread, delicious cheeses, and fruit.  It really exceeded my expectations.  You can view the complete menu on their website.

Admission itslef was donation based, which is awesome.

I thought the music would be sub-par, background music, but it was talented, riotous energy.  Winard Harper Sextet has to be one of the best jazz groups I’ve seen in a while.  The drummer — Mr. Harper himself — spastically beat the drums in the most frenetic and powerful spirit.  They’re going to be playing several other concerts this summer, so make sure to catch them live.

The next Starry Night will be the first Friday in August.  Don’t miss it!

Things sound so much better in French.  Take for instance Ceci n’est pas… (This is not…), the exhibit Rachel Gugelberger and Jeffrey Walkowiak curated at Sara Meltzer Gallery.  Doesn’t Ceci n’est pas just seem like something that would roll off your tongue if you knew which letters to pronounce?  So much more sophisticated than simply “This is not.”  But, since some of us sadly are not as multilingual as we’d like to imagine ourselves to be, we get a bonus title in English. 

Art devotees, however, surely would recognize Ceci n’est pas…  as a play on René Magritte’s The Treachery of Images, which coyly displayed the words Ceci n’est pas une pipe under a picture of a pipe.  By doing so, Magritte reinforced the fact that his painting was just that—a painting, a representation of a pipe, not a tangible pipe.  By borrowing Magritte’s phrase, the exhibit at Sara Meltzer Gallery clearly winks at the in-the-know art world.   

Yet with this biting title, the gallery is simultaneously smirking at the art world, by poking holes through its snobby facade.  They say:   

Ceci n’est pas… (This is not…) an exhibition about painting. This is not an exhibition that defines a moment or a trend. This is not an exhibition that celebrates the emerging artist or the mid-career artist or those who have passed. This is not an exhibition about appropriation, subversive strategies or architectural interventions. This is not an exhibition about global warming, the war in Iraq, government corruption, Lindsey Lohan or Knut the polar bear.

This is not even The Bong Show, which also capitalized on Magritte’s The Treachery of Images to reflect on what is and is not acceptable subject matter in art. 

Cleverly, by explaining all that it is not, the exhibit brings us full circle.  We understand the irony of our self-awareness.  We get that an exhibit like this one could potentially be poking fun of us, but because we know that, we think we’ve transcended the game.  In reality, we’re still just another overly smart, dumb consumer. 

This sort posturing in the art world is what Ceci n’est pas… (This is not…) is all about.  With acid wit, twenty-two artists explore what art is … and is not.  As players in the field, they’ve seen the hype, the trends, the gimmicks, the frustrations, the elitism, and the personalities that make up the contemporary art world.  Sometimes the artists leave you guessing what’s a stereotype and what’s the truth, but they never leave you indifferent.   

The artists showcasing their talents are Tamy Ben-Tor, Peter Coffin, Jennifer Dalton, Alejandro Diaz, Charley Friedman, Neil Goldberg, Terence Gower, Pablo Helquera, Christopher K. Ho and Troy Richards, Nina Katchadourian, David Kramer, Cary Leibowitz, Michael Lindeman, Pam Lins, Reynard Loki, Edgar Orlaineta, Laura Parnes, Danica Phelps, Jude Tallichet, Guy Richards Smit, and Michael Smith. 

There are also a slew of cheeky events in relation to the exhibit:  

Wednesday, July 11, 7pm
Pablo Helguera performs We all Need a Pygmalian, a musically enhanced inspirational lecture introducing The Pablo-Helguera Manual of Contemporary Art Style. Thursday, July 19, 8pm
An evening of screenings by Alex Bag, Kate Gilmore, David Kramer, Laura Parnes, Guy Richards Smit and Michael Smith. Tuesday, July 24, 7pm
Kalup Linzy performs a sequel to his 2006 Conversations wit de Churen V: As Da Art World Might Turn. Wednesday, July 25, 6-8pm
Open Book is an opportunity for artists who work in book form to share their production and process with other artists and interested viewers. Please submit materials to Sara Meltzer Gallery by no later than July 6th. Co-sponsored with Regency Arts Press Ltd. For further details, visit www.sarameltzergallery.com. Tuesday, August 14, 4pm
A walk-thru of the exhibition with private dealer Betsey Geffen, aka Charley Friedman

Ceci n’est pas… (This is not…) just opened yesterday and will run through Friday, August 17. Sara Meltzer Gallery (525-531 West 26^th St., NYC) is open Monday - Friday, 11am-6pm; closed for July 4. 

Photo: Jennifer Dalton, The Collector-ibles (Top 10 Collectors According to ArtNEWS) (detail), 2006. 

Happy birthday, S’mac!  The East Village eatery (Sarita’s Macaroni & Cheese, S’mac for short, is located at 345 East 12th Street, New York) that fancies up macaroni and cheese turns one today and is celebrating by offering its All-American nosh for just one dollar. 

For the record, an All-American is your standard mac and cheese—American and cheddar cheese on your choice of twisted elbow macaroni or whole-wheat pasta, with or without breadcrumbs.  The nosh is the smallest size, and usually goes for $4.25.  Skillets hang on the wall to help you figure out portion size, but a nosh is perfect if you plan on trying more than.  After all, why get your plain Jane macaroni and cheese at a place that specializes in more exotic blends?

Offering up a gooey array of macaroni and cheese skillets, S’mac is a turophile’s dream.  Among the cheeses that smother the pasta are American, brie, cheddar, goat cheese, gorgonzola, gruyere, manchego, mozzarella, muenster, parmesan, and pepper jack.  If you’re building your own, you can only choose from All American or 4 Cheese sauce so for a more distinctive cheese, go with one of the main macs or current specials.

You can view the complete menu here, smacnyc.com/what.html but the highlights include:

CHEESEBURGER: For the Hearty Meat Eater! Ground Beef done to perfection with onions, garlic and a hint of ketchup and mustard. Don’t forget the best part - a combination of American and Cheddar cheeses.

…

GRUYERE: A Swiss Mac that keeps you coming back for more. Gruyere coupled with its partner in crime, slab bacon. Hard to resist!

…

GARDEN (LITE): Don’t let the “Lite” fool you - this baby is as satisfying as any of the other MACs! Lite Cheddar, Parmesan, roasted cauliflower and portobello mushrooms, roasted garlic, broccoli and scallions.

They also have three specials:

MARSALA MAC: North American comfort food blended with Indian spices - exotic? mysterious? avant-garde? - you be the judge. This one is certainly not for the faint of heart!

BUFFALO CHICKEN MAC: Cheddar & American cheeses with boneless chicken pieces and buffalo wing sauce. We’ll even top it off with crumbled blue cheese if you’d like!

GINGER WASABI MAC: Goat Cheese blended with soy sauce, ginger, wasabi and scallions … who says East can’t meet West!

Be the first to know about the latest specials at S’mac by signing up for the mailing list: keepmeintheloop@smacnyc.com.

Not too daring, I got the 4 Cheese, made of muenster, American, gorgonzola, and cheddar.  It was good but not the crunchy baked goodness of Chat’n’Chew’s macaroni and cheese.  I also sampled the Marsala Mac, which kicked it up a notch with spicy Indian flavors.  I liked the concept of the Brie Mac, which is sprinkled with bits of roasted fig and shiitake mushrooms, but found brie to be a bit overwhelming for macaroni and cheese.  The Goat Cheese Mac was heavy on the spinach and light on the Kalamata olives, but was still very tasty.

As for atmosphere, it was very IKEA—cute and modern, but verging on rinky-dink.  In classic cafeteria style, you have to clean up for yourself, separating the skillets from the silverware and so forth.

Overall, it’s a fun place to take out-of-towners, who will like the gimmick of a restaurant that servers only one type of food since they’re probably used to only eating at huge chains like Chili’s and Applebees.  It’s also a good casual date.  I saw one couple sharing a large skillet instead of getting their own smaller ones.  Very cute.  If you go with a group of friends, I’d recommend each person getting something different and sharing, though.

Here are two fun bits of trivia to work into conversation when you go to S’mac:

Crayola has an orange-ish crayon called Macaroni and Cheese

Thomas Jefferson is rumored to have invented macaroni and cheese.

“Free cash while supplies last!” Jonathan LeVine Gallery coyly advertised for tonight’s reception of Shepard Fairey’s E Pluribus Venom. By 7 PM the line to get in was already snaking long past the 81 Front Street entrance of the DUMBO installation space. Sure enough, the opening was a goldmine for art scensters.

The money was on the walls. With clever turns of phrase, Fairey — co-founder of the aptly named Swindle magazine — reimagined the Almighty Dollar in terms of America’s ruthless capitalism. In two floor-to-ceiling paintings of dollar bills, the artist quipped:

OBEDIENCE IS THE MOST VALUABLE CURRENCY
INDISCRIMINATE CAPITALISM
IN LESSER GODS WE TRUST
CASH CONQUERS ALL

REPETITION WORKS
MANUFACTURING DISSENT SINCE 1989

He even took a stab at money’s hold on the press:

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS IS GUARANTEED TO THOSE WHO OWN ONE

He continued his tongue-in-cheek critique of money in one of his paintings over muted collages, with the statement, “U.S. TREASURY. BRINGING DREAMS TO LIFE.”

Bundled up with money were themes of obedience (Fairey is famous for his “Obey Giant” street campaign), government, and war, suggesting that many people are blindly nationalistic.

Not suprisingly, red, black, and gold typified Fairey’s palette, although a smattering of paint adorned the floor in a kind of we-don’t-need-a-fancy-gallery-to-show-our-art type of way.

To top off the Dewars-fueled evening, Fairey was DJing his own reception, along with Cosmo Baker (The Rub) and 10 Fingers (700 Club Philly).

The DUMBO exhibit will be on view Wednesdays through Sundays, 11 - 7 PM, from June 22nd to July 7.

A second exhibition will open this Saturday, June 23, at Jonathan LeVine Gallery (529 West 20th St., 9th Fl, Manhattan), and will run through July 21.