Word: beckett
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From T.S. Eliot and Samuel Beckett to Dorothy Parker and E.B. White, from I Can't Give You Anything But Love, Baby-with some jazzy pianistics as a bonus-to Me and Bobbie McGee. This number, rendered in Williamson's supple and sensitive baritone, is affecting enough to supply an added paragraph to the vocabulary of soul...
...Bill Beckett's review of 337 (Thursday) seems to lack a great deal of thought. Someone who says he has "always been skeptical" about yearbooks should not review them, but rather give that job to someone with an open mind. His major complaint is that the book does not catch "What Life Was Like for All of Us," and he is right. No yearbook can do that. So it might be better if Crimson reviewers with their Crimsonese cynicism stopped picking this bone year after year and spent their time looking more closely at what was in the book. This...
...anyone who denies it is being naive. Does it belong in a yearbook? Yes, for the same reason that the football team, Glee Club, and pre-meds do. Is it in poor taste? No, I don't think so. To have written about Dunster House the way Bill Beckett suggests, probing the "intricate web of strong relationships among men and women," examining their "intellectual dependencies" and loving -- that, to me, would be in poor taste. Kenneth Meister Managing Editor...
Although initially weak, Scott Beckett forsakes the flat declamation of his narrative and excess bravado in the retrospective scenes to become a convincing Tom, the dreamer and poet who finally flees Amanda's carping. As his sister, Gwyneth Gibby conveys all of Laura's stiffness and fear in a tiny voice and bird-like inclinations of her head; she is, as Williams meant her to be, one of the glass figurines of the menagerie...
...return to the limits of graphic art, Arikha has produced some of the most remarkable images on paper since the death of Giacometti. Arikha's drawings of landscapes, old shoes and coats, his own face or that of a friend like Samuel Beckett, may seem frustrating at first. They look messy and disclose themselves slowly. None of the hard, wiry line of pen or silverpoint here; the brush (the kind used in Japan for sumi-e or ink painting) flits and stumbles across the roughly textured page, leaving behind tiny marks that seem knitted or crocheted together...