Word: chairless
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...worthwhile," wrote Phillips some 80 years ago, when marble temples of culture were sprouting like didactic mushrooms from the American soil, "to reverse the usual process of popularizing an art gallery. Instead of the academic grandeur of marble halls and stairways and miles of chairless spaces, with low standards and popular attractions to draw the crowds, we plan to try the effect of domestic architecture, of rooms small or at least livable." In fact, Phillips and his artist wife Marjorie started the gallery in their own house, and although since its founding in 1921 it has grown some...
Hurley's raffish oases have names like the 4 Ever Amber Tap, Nora's Gold Nugget, Augie's Rainbow, Lovely Girls, and Joan's French Casino. The loudest and most profane action is at Joan's, a small, chairless place cheered chiefly by the muted glow of the pinball machines. Joan, a 32-year-old blonde with a foul mouth and matching disposition, is the joint's leading (and only) attraction. Alternately kissing and cussing visiting huntsmen, Joan sets drink prices by a whimsical sliding scale based on how much the traffic will bear...
...tramontane, a strong, cold wind that sweeps along the Pyrenees to the Mediterranean, kept the orchestra grabbing for their music, finally made them clip the sheets to the racks with clothespins. The wind also played havoc with the acoustics, made the most desirable spots those on a chairless balcony above the platform. Astute music lovers sacrificed comfort, sat on the balcony floor, their feet dangling over the edge. At the second night's concert, the tramontane brought an unseasonable downpour that soaked the motionless audience to the skin before the concert was called...
...head, face, hands (one holding a cigar) and crossed legs. Postmaster General Harry Stewart New took his seat on the last chair, frowning benignly and nowhere nearly so tightly as Secretary Kellogg (whose expression was almost challenging) or the President (who had the sun in his left eye). The chairless back row looked far more happy than the front, like the carefree junior editors of a college publication who are always relegated to the back of the yearbook picture. They did not have to worry about hands, feet or the bottoms of their coats. Stalwart, silver-haired Secretary James John...
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