Word: art
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...that the government has all but given up hope of keeping Mexico's treasures at home. Some officials are collectors themselves-and not above turning a fast peso on a good piece. They make smuggling ridiculously easy. Reaching the border with a station wagon full of pre-Columbian art, ex-Jockey and Art-Quiz Whiz Billy Pearson was "prepared to start throwing money around." The customs man demanded only food. "For a case of chilis," wrote Pearson in his autobiography, "I got through the border...
...latest wrinkle in the trade was all but inevitable. With everyone scrambling for pre-Columbian art, local Indians have learned to copy the originals handed to them by dealers, are selling fakes to gullible tourists as fast as they can make them. And some are so well done that even the art dealers get clipped on an occasional imitation Mayan...
...bloodlines pure, frolicsome, Cambridge-educated King Freddie, Kabaka of Buganda (pop. about 1,500,000) in the British protectorate of Uganda, moved swiftly to preserve black supremacy. Days after younger brother Prince Henry, 31, had defied a sibling caveat and married 17-year-old Carol Ann Whitey. a Bournemouth art student, Freddie's parliament notified the bridegroom: "As you have married an English girl, neither your children nor your grandchildren can be recognized as being in the direct line of succession to the Kabakaship...
...Birds, a Catalan folk melody and unofficial anthem of exiled Catalans that Casals performs at the end of every recital. Sobbed Maurice: "Quelle beaute, quelle beaute." With a flurry of farewells, and clutching an autographed photo ("To Maurice Chevalier, whom the world loves and admires for his art. simple and touching"), Chevalier hurried off to catch his plane...
Born in Switzerland, Jean Tinguely was an early rebel, was expelled from school after school and took up art in desperation at the age of 14. Nine years ago, he quit Switzerland in disgust ("They're suffocating in security and drowning in comfort"), settled in a lean-to shack in Paris' scruffy Impasse Ronsin. There, in a litter of old iron, cooky crumbs and whirling clockwork, Tinguely constructs his "abstractions," erratically watched over by his wife Eva. Says her husband: "She paints the kind of things Edgar Allan Poe would have, if he'd been able...