Word: bistros
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Another musical apostle. Jesuit Father Aimeé Duval, 38, was drawing the teenagers into Paris' Palais des Sports last week for a session of singing and guitar strumming. With permission from his superiors, Father Duval started out six years ago as a street musician, quickly became a provincial bistro favorite as a singer of folk songs, Negro spirituals (among which he includes "Me voilàa, me voilaà, old vieux Joe") and religious songs of his own composition. His record of Seigneur, Mon Ami-which might be translated roughly as "Somebody up there likes me"-sold...
Personality: No socialite, prefers to dine alone in kitchen of his one-bedroom Paris apartment near Bois de Boulogne; still drives black Citroen which he has had since 1945; weekending in Arras he plays billiards or belotte with old friends in favorite bistro. Madame Mollet keeps tabs on his mayoral duties; they have two daughters, Jacqueline and Dolly, one grandchild. A confessed Anglophile, he chain-smokes Player's and admires British "fair play" (a phrase which, he points out, has no counterpart in French); in first three months as Premier lost 15 Ibs., has since regained nine...
Montmartre bistro-dance hall Chez Frede and to talk fondly of his and Picasso's revolution. "Cubism still exerts a strong influence," he says. "Its possibilities are far from being exhausted. Cubism was not so much a new system, but rather a new 'forme d''esprit.' Of course, many fakers and would-be artists have tried their hands; they have cubized all nature. But true artists still find new inspirations in cubism...
...most welcome diversion from the news of the Nile and the Democratic circus in Chicago. Only one criticism: the shot of the Cotton Club shows the highness of hi-de-ho, Cab Galloway, with the chicks, and not the Duke. Of course Cab spent many moons at that bistro. But please let this not discourage you from printing a shot of Duke at the Cotton Club...
...circ. 52,000) morning daily, Excelsior, it bloomed too close to home. Thoroughly enraged, Hemingway went to the Warner Bros, unit now filming The Old Man in Cuba, borrowed a tape-recorder man, a cameraman and a pressagent. Soon, Papa was set up in his favorite local bistro, La Terraza Café, on the harbor of Cojimar, a fishing village near Havana. With him sat grizzled Miguel Ramirez, 68, named in the stories as Papa's real Old Man. In colorfully fractured Spanish, Papa drew from Ramirez an admission: "It's all a lie." Next day Havana...