Word: clangorous
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Needs Understood. The noise begins at dawn with the loudspeaker chants of muezzins from minarets, followed by the clangor of bells from Christian churches. Auto horns, the plaintive cries of peddlers, and the bray of donkeys blend with the screech of jet planes. With evening comes the sound of 64 nightclubs, the throb of motorboats carrying gamblers up the coast to the Casino de Liban, and the shrill cries of prostitutes in the block-long Bourg Central Square in the heart of town...
Cosmopolitan Clangor. Stella's first published drawings, called Americans in the Rough, appeared in 1905. They were so compelling that in 1908 a magazine sent him to Pittsburgh steel mills and West Virginia coal pits to capture the look of common laborers, immigrants like himself. He did it with the skill of Renaissance masters: character surges from every pore of sweat-stained faces, submerged in subtle eddies of pencil and charcoal. In 1909 Stella returned to Italy, where he was born, and soon met the bellicose futurists. He absorbed their lessons of the violent involvement of forms and devotion...
...with his art. In his Battle of Lights, Coney Island, done in 1914, he depicted a warring scene of roller coasters, kaleidoscopic lights and jumbled humanity in a mosaic of maddening motion. His masterpiece, New York Interpreted, finished in 1922, is a 22-ft. pentaptych guidebook to cosmopolitan clangor. The port drags the viewer in to see a leaping skyscraper, two aspects of Broadway and a bridge-an extension of man toward a world beyond or above...
...self-declared movement, pop art is more than just paint and plaster; it is also a clangor of nonmusic, a babble of tape recorders, and the "happening," a nonplay which requires one or two small rooms and the tolerance of the spectators. In short, a branch of show business. Last week Washington, earnestly aspiring to be the new cultural capital of the U.S., was deep in something called "The Pop Art Festival," staged by the Washington Gallery of Modern...
Lisa Commager was a beautiful and not unconvincing Zenocrate. She brought off her two major dramatic transitions with competence, if not eclat, and served as a restrained and lyrical foil to the military clangor of the others. Edmund Hennessy, on the other hand, did away with every sort of restraint in his nervous, grimacing portrayal of Mycetes, the effete King of Perisa. Hennessy was terribly funny, but his evident talent as a mime deserves more direction that it got. Now and then a gesture would jibe with a line. However, for the most part, he wasted a lot of inspired...