Word: cyrill
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Davies Symphony Hall. Some of the steady improvement in the Minnesota Orchestra is attributable to the lively Orchestra Hall, its home since 1974. The Utah Symphony's warm, responsive Symphony Hall in Salt Lake City, built in 1979, is the most impressive of all. The work of Acoustician Cyril Harris, it is as good as Boston's Symphony Hall, long considered the ideal. "A hall is both an inspiration and a challenge to an orchestra," says Richard Cisek, president of the Minnesota Orchestral Association. "A bad hall finds an orchestra trying to compensate for it, whereas a good...
Hemingway made it his happiest hunting ground. Isak Dinesen, in Out of Africa, compared it to England in the 18th century, when an aristocrat might possess a "lovely landscape and a multitude of servants." For Cyril Connolly, however, the East African colony of Kenya was no paradise lost. It was the site of a 1941 murder that obsessed the British essayist and critic for a decade. By the time Connolly died in 1974, he had come tantalizingly close to finding the answer to the question that had mesmerized two generations of colonial society: Who shot Josslyn Hay, 22nd Earl...
...DIMLY LIT corner, a courtier clutches a skull and caresses its sockets. Alas, poor Yorick? No--this time the hero is Vindice (vengeance) and skull is that of his love, Gloriana, poisoned by the wicked Duke. Cyril Tourner's The Revenger's Tragedy, while reminiscent of Hamlet, is of a distinct genre: it is not so much a tragedy as a horror play in which vengeance, severing the ties of love and kinship, sweeps its victims toward their own destruction...
Friday. A salutary touch of malice gloriously unjust. She describes a visit to Novelist Elizabeth Bowen in Ireland, where other guests included Critic Cyril Connolly and wife: "There we spent one night, unfortunately with baboon Connolly & his gollywog slug wife Jean...
...writers on the list of the Great are rarely those whom one simply loves. Great writers are often interminable bores. D.H Lawrence once said that reading Proust was like trying to till a field with knitting needles. Cyril Connolly would not have made his own list. He wrote his line about writers we might miss in a minor book called The Unquiet Grave (1944). He died in 1974. But open the book now, in 1982, and his mordant, elegant light pours out of the volume, alive, into the eye, the waiting, conscious mind...