Word: artistics
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R.E.M.'s Stipe draws the link between Corbijn's departure into film and his "audacious and courageous" move to London in 1979: "For a wildly successful, internationally known artist to shift mediums at the age of 52, and to have Ian Curtis as the subject of his premier feature, I think brings his odyssey full circle...
...Artists come to a career in art with all kinds of life experience on their résumés. Sometimes it's even pertinent. It makes perfect sense that Andy Warhol started out as an advertising illustrator. Or that the welded-steel sculptor David Smith spent time on an auto assembly line. With the Danish artist Olafur Eliasson, it's not so easy at first to connect what he does now-create works that invite you to play with fields of colored light or with lenses and mirrors or with your own understandings of how you see-with what...
...allergies? if so, you know the relief of Benadryl, since 1946 the cure for everything from rashes to runny noses. Its inventor, George Rieveschl, became a chemical engineer after failing to get a job as a commercial artist. In the 1940s, while researching muscle relaxants, he found that his two-part compound blocked itch-causing histamines. Unlike predecessors, Benadryl did not cause severe drowsiness. It made him millions. "It seemed like bad luck at the time," he said of the nosedive he took as an artist, "but it ended up working out pretty well...
Sunday morning confession (post walk of shame) just got a whole lot easier. Instead of spending an hour talking to your favorite Father, now you can find Jesus while hustling down Massachusetts Avenue in last night’s toga. The potential absolver of sins is street-artist Hani Shihada, who created a sidewalk mural depicting Jesus and the Virgin Mary in front of the Harvard Book Store. Megan E. Carey ’08, in a slightly less shameful situation than a Sunday morning homecoming, stopped to watch him work. “The image itself is powerful...
...member of the Waffen SS. But after sharing my hunger, he was so human to me that, if he were before me, I would have readily forgiven him. This intensely self-critical, self-reflective stranger who is so beleaguered by shame, this art stamp collector, stonemason, fledgling artist, eventual writer, master dancer, lover, husband...Günter Grass became me, his mouth rubberbanded shut. I was him, playing dice with a religious Bavarian, discussing the future. Strange, isn’t it, the power of a good book...