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‘60s pop aficionados know there’s more to The Cyrkle than its Fab Four connections.
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This is poetry that sets its goals, finds the right language to reach them, hits hard, and recovers an ancient purpose for verse that has fallen by the wayside in recent times: consolation.
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I found it remarkable to explore the exhibition, then experience a kind of filmic audience with the artist, then return, fired up and enlightened, to the beautiful installation.
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Like other Eastern European artists, Radu Jude is at his best channeling his anger through dark comedy.
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Our expert critics supply a guide to film, visual art, theater, author readings, television, and music. More offerings will be added as they come in.
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Baritone saxophonist Pepper Adams was clearly a generous soul, as well as a stunningly accomplished jazz musician.
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“Kim’s Convenience” offers a genial comic glimpse of an immigrant family’s struggle for dignity and an economic foothold.
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“Die My Love” is a healthy bitch-slap, its shock encouraging young folks to dismiss the bullshit about relationships too many other movies have hawked over the past decade and a half or so.
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The themes of “Lizard Boy” would land more squarely—and more powerfully—with a teenage audience than they can with those of us who can only recall such a time in our lives.
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This week’s poem: Christie Towers’ “from Timestamp: A Liturgy of the Hours”
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