This girl can make a tile floor an ice skating rink, and I see a
rock and say, Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock. One of us has magic
and the other a stutter, a neurotic hitch of finding realness as
most basic. In simple things. But the little girl sliding is all
vector and joy and earthbound toe-loops. She doesn’t have
direction but is one. Like the river. Like the river. Like the river
in all seasons but deep winter, when it becomes ice and a
memorial to motion. Like …
Does a work of art have to be created by one person with a singular vision? Our experience says “no.”
Art-making also works when a group of specialized artists—or even …
The song is a hokey karaoke version of Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft.” It’s the week of Halloween, 2012, and I’m in a theater on New York’s Upper West Side. I’m wearing …
I grew up in India from the age of 4 to 14. Every two years, my family traveled back to the States on “home leave.” Via Europe or through Hong …
It’s not every day that Angelenos stumble upon a washboard, an accordion, and a pot of gumbo all within the county limits.
Maybe that’s because they aren’t looking hard enough. Hidden …
For the last few weeks, clubgoers and music enthusiasts have been mourning the passing of Nemencio Jose Andujar, who died three days shy of his 71st birthday. Of course, few …
