Word: bareness
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...Trio 99[to]00 (Warner Bros.), due out Feb. 8, Metheny teams up with two of the hottest young guns on the New York City jazz scene, bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Bill Stewart, for a bare-bones blowing session recorded in two days flat. The songs range from no-nonsense blues like Metheny's own (Go) Git It to a feathery bossa nova romp through the harmonic obstacle course of John Coltrane's Giant Steps. The biggest surprise is the old-fashioned show tune A Lot of Livin' to Do, coolly reharmonized in the oblique, quizzical manner of Metheny...
...time film reaches its triumphant conclusion--a spontaneous, bare bones production of Blitzstein's musical, in which all of the cast risk their jobs with the Federal Theater for the sake of a single performance--Robbins' purpose in embracing the subject is both abundantly clear and difficult to refute. The movie suggests that the artistic quality of Blitzstein's work (which, from the bits represented here, seems questionable) matters less than the fact that it was performed. The final, unexpected shot of the film says in no uncertain terms that its message isn't limited to history. Cradle Will Rock...
Nothing but the sound of waves foaming against black volcanic rock. A man sits alone at a desk reading verses of the Bible aloud to himself. Three white crosses stand desolate atop a bare green hill. All across the empty, silent island--a kind of Polynesian Scotland--moai, or worn, hollow-eyed statues carved from volcanic stone, are staring back at the new day as if it were...
...week--Easter Island offers what humanity has always relied on: petroglyphs and taboos and ways of peopling the dark. You walk here through a landscape of atavistic myth, in what can seem a Blair Witch island. Winds from Antarctica roar over broken stone heads and toppled statues in the bare earth. In the local church, the Virgin Mary is a staring-eyed moai, and the baptismal font sits atop a carved head. "Y2K," in the blustery quiet, sounds a lot like "Why today...
Behind them, though, bare-chested neighbors with flowing red hair are galloping down the main street on chestnut horses. A girl is kissing a customer in her delight at having completed, successfully, a credit-card transaction (her first). And around a tiny graveyard of white and black and red-brown crosses, crookedly set against the sea, the moai stand, restored to their dark platforms, in front of cresting waves...