Here we have the story of a young Czech woman who could not only take a piece of fabric and shape it into a gorgeous dress, but could also take her experiences during WWII and shape them into a compelling memoir.
Vivarium offers such a completely well-thought out narrative that it hardly matters whether we are dealing with magic realism or a satirical fable.
How, as an African-American visual artist, do you represent something that no one wants to think about, much less look at? Kara Walker’s solution is ultimately an aesthetic one.
Films for those who practice — or are just interested in — design, architecture, and urban planning
Tour de force? Not quite. Joycean? Perhaps in the way contemporary individuals overlap with ancient, mythical counterparts.
The sheer breadth of information presented here will, at the very least, raise public awareness by deepening our understanding of how pandemics work and why it is important to prepare for the inevitable.
Ironically, Mixing Colours is best experienced by taking in its video presentations.
Soprano Ruby Hughes’ album is fine, well played, sung, and programmed; baritone Christoph Prégardien delivers vocal works by Mahler, Alexander von Zemlinsky, and Max Reger with warmth; soprano Diana Damrau is in her glorious prime singing the songs of Strauss.
Peter Frase envisions how our current bedeviling social contradictions and economic abuses may play out in the future.
Isabelle Faust makes Arnold Schoenberg’s thorny Violin Concerto sing; Mariss Jansons lends heft to Saint-Saëns’ Symphony no. 3, and John Wilson continues to be your go-to conductor for Erich Wolfgang Korngold.