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The Wilkes-Barre doomgaze artist talks creative block, bare-bones recording, and why he prefers to play in shows with musicians that don’t sound like him.
Each month, our arts critics — music, book, theater, dance, television, film, and visual arts — fire off a few brief reviews.
Mike Patton’s supergroup navigated pandemic-era anxieties with surgical precision while Melvins provided savage support.
Dennis Cooper’s “transgressive” reputation obscures his deeper project: language as moral instrument, and the victim rather than the predator as the true subject.
Soprano-conductor Barbara Hannigan’s semiquincentennial album reframes familiar American classics through a lens of wistfulness, insight, and quiet defiance.
A turn-of-the-century schoolteacher’s idealism collides with alpine tradition—and the land itself—in a beguiling, sensorially rich debut.
Documentarian Ross McElwee’s most profound film folds four decades of self-portraiture into a threnody for his son—and a meditation on memory, guilt, and cinema’s solace.
This week’s poem: Brendan Lorber’s “Sag Harbor in the morning”
The webslinger’s new outing has the cameos, the conspiracy, and the corporate logic. What it doesn’t have is heart.
Visual Arts Commentary: The Great Spirit Gets Company
In Boston and Hanover, new works by Alan Michelson and Kent Monkman challenge the myth of the vanishing Native—and the Cyrus Dallin bronze that enshrined it.
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