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“The Woman in Gold” at the Neue Galerie: A Review (Blog)

Klimt’s “Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I” is certainly beautiful. It features a doe-eyed woman surrounded by and enclosed in gold, her hands clasped together awkwardly as if to avoid dirtying her glowing drapery. It is the central painting of the new exhibition, “The Woman in Gold” at the Neue gallery on the Upper East Side.…

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Junkspace: What The Mall Might Teach Us (Blog)

Rem Koolhaas’ luminescent essay Junkspace decries the mall as the slagheap of America. Gleaming and gaudy, the ill-conceived child of consumerism and commercial architecture, malls across America serve as museums of all the things wrong with American society. Koolhaas points out the problems associated with fast-fashion, the invisibility of the working class, obesity, and the impermanence…

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Open Call for Cover Art

We’re looking for visual art to publish in our magazine. We need artwork for both the cover and the magazine’s contents. Submit your photographs, drawings, and other visual art today to TheColumbiaReview@Gmail.com for a chance to see your artwork published on the cover of our magazine. We’re looking forward to seeing your work. Be sure to…

The Morgan Library and Museum: A Review (Blog)

Perhaps it’s because I made a personal blood oath many years ago to distance myself from everything having to do with finance, but I only recently discovered that J.P Morgan–yes, the John Pierpont Morgan, leading financier of the Progressive Era that basically transformed the face of American business and whose company is a coveted sanctuary for business and finance enthusiasts everywhere–was actually a raging bibliophile. At the very least, he appreciated the power that amassing a large collection of rare and precious manuscripts gave him, and modern bibliophiles don’t seem to mind this too much because–well, come on, the man…

The Girls of Paris (Poetry)

The Girls of Paris No matter their age, they were always the girls, dressed in starched white uniforms, and white rubber soled shoes. They might have been nurses lined up at the bus stop after closing time, if not for their black aprons dusty with powdered sugar.   The girls have blisters on their feet, running back and forth behind the counter all day, and blisters on their hands breaking the red and white string spooling from the ceiling for the cardboard boxes embossed with a gold Eiffel Tower.   “Take a number, please.” The line spills out the door…

Charming Garbage (Fiction)

As my home crumbles around us, my fat French uncle tells me again about all the things he secretly fixed in France, him and his clandestine band of merry men scurrying around the tunnels underneath Paris, popping up like moles with mallets and wrenches in the city’s neglected landmarks, fixing things–months on end–fixing things no one even knew were broken. And finally it is too much. “Then why can’t you fix the damn leak in the roof?” I blow after three weeks of his charming garbage. “Why can’t you get the bathtub to drain? With a working disposal, maybe ants…

DOA: Defense of Autotune (Blog)

In my younger and more vulnerable years (namely NSOP), I offended a recently acquired acquaintance by stating that one of my favorite Kanye West albums was 808s and Heartbreaks. Though I personally believe that taking offense to such a preference is akin to disliking one for one’s favorite flavor of ice cream or favorite color, I felt like there was a deeper reason for this reaction, which could not be so easily dismissed. I had described the album as “the one where he just sings in auto-tune the whole time.” The person I had affronted was a very accomplished singer.…

“Transparent” is Anything But (Blog)

Josh Pfefferman and his younger sister Ali, both in their mid-twenties, sit on the floor of the living room in their childhood home. He holds a Jim Croce record out to her. “Look at that face. Look at that. They would never let me sign a guy like this right now. Look at that schnoz. You could not get that nose on TV today in a million years.” “I loved him so much.” Ali accepts the record, holds it to her face. “You married him.” “I did,” she agrees. “When I was four years old. We had a ceremony. I’ll…

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FourthGeneration4.0 (Poetry)

Krishan Mistry is a writer from the suburbs of New York City who is interested in what might be inappropriately labeled as “conceptual poetry.” He is particularly fascinated by computer generated and appropriated texts and has spent the last two years exploring themes like fragmentation and commodification. He is currently studying literature and creative writing…