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Brian Seibert’s history of tap dancing has unleashed something I can only describe as a tap world pissing contest.
Those assembled at Boston’s Jordan Hall were thoroughly prepared to be enraptured.
Introduced by gigantic moving set-pieces and robots with prison searchlights for eyes, Bolt often looks like poster art.
Jason Isbell has got sober, and his songs ring with the urgency of the newly recovered (and newly remarried, to his violinist Amanda Shires).
Eight nominees? WTF, Academy? If you’re going to change the structure to allow ten nominees, then have ten nominees!
Okada’s play reflects how skepticism has become the default stance for young adults shellshocked by post-recession economic restructuring.
The movie plays all sides equally, providing no answers, no favorites, no villains, no heroes. Everybody’s motives and ethics are in question.
Mavis Staples’ voice and stage presence still exude power, still plumb emotional and spiritual depths.
“All my effort is to transform machines into narrative, to show how much narrative power they have inside them, how they can tell stories.”
In a period of radicalism and terrorism, this installation serves as a beacon for remembering the beauty of the best of Islamic creative culture.
Classical Music Commentary: Boston’s Lost Opportunity — How the BSO Board Chose Charles Munch over Leonard Bernstein