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Dramatist Nina Raine probes the complex nature of tribal affinities, delicately examining how precariously communication depends on whether people listen to one another carefully, or not.
Each different personality and monologue tells essentially the same story under their varying details, a thrice-told tale of wifely loyalty in the face of political husbandry.
If Patrizia Cavalli’s poetry is egocentric, even probably autobiographical, its narrator shows a detachment enabling her to observe herself from one remove, even when she describes herself in the élans of attraction.
I guess that’s the point. We all need to slow down, go back into nature, appreciate animal life, take long walks in the forest and in the mountains.
For their debut on Sunday, Odyssey Opera and conductor Gil Rose could hardly have picked a more spectacular, unfamiliar epic than they did.
What is a problem, however, is that despite a fairly promising start, nothing at the beginning of MGMT can make up for the migraine inducing cacophony of pointless sound that is the album’s final half.
We’ve heard all these gripes before, in life, in books, on TV, and in piles of movies. But Kathryn Hahn, is so enthralling and right that Rachel’s alienation, her poor little rich girl suffering, feel harsh and real.
George Scialabba is still outfoxing the professional eggheads in For the Republic, his third collection of essays on political and cultural topics.
Music Commentary: Free-For-Alls Bode Well for Jazz’s Future
The obvious question is how can such a sprawling free festival – and the nightly fireworks shop that capped two of the nights – happen in such a cash-strapped city?
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