Word: chappaqua
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John P. Moussouris of 11 Ellery Street and Old Saybrook. Connecticut; David W. Nierenberg of Adams House and Chappaqua, New York; Olav T. Oftedal of Currier House and Ontario, Canada; Louis D. Peterson of Winthrop House and Seattle, Washington; David C. Plotke of Dunster House and Los Angeles, California...
Perhaps we can best understand this renaissance by thinking over the experiences of Elliot Cahn, the group's musical director from Chappaqua, N.Y., which borders Mr. Kisco. Elliot was introduced to rock 'n' roll by his older brother and quickly became the prime patron of a local malt shop. He listened intently to the juke box for hours and watched the neighborhood toughs guzzle birch beer and carve their initials on the booths. At night, he would lie in his bed as rock hits echoed through his mind and visions of fan clubs danced in his head. "Someday," Elliot...
...struts Mick Jagger with a snigger, dressed entirely in black, a long pinkish scarf hanging from his neck, an Uncle Sam hat straight from Chappaqua on his head. The omega-like sign of Leo, fiery and domineering, the sign of a king, is printed on his chest. "Well alright," he shouts at the audience, looking the perverse offspring of a Rimbaud or a Wilde, and like a voodoo prince he pumps his hips twice and begins to dance. Pouting, leering, his fat lips flapping, his eyes hopped in derision, he is the shaman, the witch we have waited...
...effect. Civics' landscapes and wide-angle shots of the two motorcycles crossing the Southwest are quite marvelous; but the LSD sequence is predictable-lots of fish-eye shots, weeping, and intimation of death-and boring, and doesn't do justice to the drug (compare Conrad Rooks' sublime hallucinations in Chappaqua or in any film by Jordan Belson). Hopper also has an irritating editing affectation: when indicating the passage of time he'll cut two frames of the next sequence in twice at the end of the preceding scene. Real avant-garde...
...effect. Kovacs' landscapes and wide-angle shots of the two motorcycles crossing the Southwest are quite marvelous; but the LSD sequence is predictable--lots of fish-eye shots, weeping, and intimation of death--and boring, and doesn't do justice to the drug (compare Conrad Rooks' sublime hallucinations in Chappaqua or in any film by Jordan Belson). Hopper also has an irritating editing affectation: when indicating the passage of time he'll cut two frames of the next sequence in twice at the end of the preceding scene. Real avant-garde...