Word: art
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...have worried for months about the possibility of "another Columbia." Like the troubled campus on Morningside Heights, Harvard, to many of its students, is a large impersonal school with a faceless administration and a brilliant faculty who are as much concerned with the demands of research as with the art of teaching. Despite its past reputation as a prim, proper school for the elite, Harvard today is undeniably hip (TIME, March 14). It has as many beards as Berkeley, as much grass as Columbia?and one of the nation's most active S.D.S. chapters...
...paper was sobersided and international-minded. Circulation was 155,000, behind two mediocre competitors, and profit-and-loss figures showed only losses. Newhall de-emphasized foreign affairs and accentuated a breezy-and sometimes banal-mixture of splashy local stories and columnists, including San Franciscophile Herb Caen and Art Hoppe, the West Coast's answer to Art Buchwald. One of the paper's series, probing the police department, went so far as to lead with the old saw about the dumb cop who found a dead horse on the corner of Guerrero Street and dutifully dragged it a whole...
...roughly a decade, the works of a slight, wiry, North Carolina-born painter named Kenneth Noland, 45, have been vehemently praised and just as savagely dissected in art magazines, while remaining relatively unappreciated by the general museum going public. The reason is that Noland's paintings, from the time he first began to attract attention with his "target" canvases of 1957, have remained icily symmetrical, uncompromisingly abstract, and thus seemingly impersonal. The debate has raged over whether (as his foes charged) they are merely decorative, or whether (as his friends claimed) they are simply so difficult that most people...
...where he recently bought and is renovating a flophouse on the Bowery. Noland's style has been studied and imitated by fellow artists from Rome to British Columbia. Advertisements are apt to blossom with his latest hues a season after he unveils them, because Madison Avenue's art directors haunt the 57th Street galleries for fresh ideas...
...sense of swift ease and mastery of this wonder is swiftly disintegrating. And the heart of the problem, as every airplane passenger knows, is on the ground. Airlines have perfected the art of getting from A to Z, while ignoring the place where all flights begin and end-the airport. Ideally, an airport is a conduit, a place to leave; in reality, it has become a gigantic waiting room, where exasperations multiply like chewing-gum wrappers and cigarette butts on the floor. One woe is the need for a great trek, first as much as three-quarters of a mile...