Word: da
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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DIED. GENE LEVITT, 79, Brooklyn-born TV writer-director who created the 1970s series Fantasy Island; of prostate cancer; in Los Angeles. Levitt produced cop shows like Barnaby Jones and Hawaii Five-0, but it was his success with the Ricardo Montalban-Herve Villechaize vehicle Fantasy Island ("Da plane! Da plane!") that allowed him to take a few years off to live on his sailboat in Hawaii...
...came to their dancefloor hit "Hey You (What's That Sound)." Proceeding along very much like the album version, "Hey You" was fairly warmly received initially. Then, drifting in, under the radar, under the bassline of "Hey You," came the insertion of the familiar strains of another melody. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da. So the infuriatingly catchy intro to New Order's "Blue Monday" has no words. Didn't stop any of us from singing along...
...like you've stepped into the famous da Vinci painting: a beaming Jesus presides over the meal from the middle of the table, with Judas the traitor seated on his left and faithful Simon (boyish good looks and all) seated on his right. But this is no Italian basilica--this is the Currier dining hall, and Jesus (Jeffery E. Fowler '01) is complaining about the service, Judas (Ryan P. Shrime '00) is cracking off-color jokes, and one of the apostles (but not Simon, played by Stefan H. Atkinson '03) is still nursing a hangover. Grab some of His body...
...have an 8-ft. bronze Leonardo da Vinci horse in Grand Rapids, Mich. [Letters, Oct. 18], but we also have a 24-ft. version, just like the Leonardo horse in Milan, Italy. In fact, ours is not even a copy. It was cast at the same time as the Milan horse; all the parts of the two statues are interchangeable. And thanks to philanthropist Fred Meijer, our horse provides a hands-on art experience for those who visit--art you can walk right up to and touch (not mounted on a pedestal like the one in Milan...
...various architectural elements strewn about the dressing-room, the missing coats of paint--they're immaterial. Giasone already has a brilliant set: the violins, gut-strung and armed with baroque bows. The theorbos, or chitarrones, their halved-pear bodies flowering into tall, lyrical stalks. The melancholy viola da gamba and the haunting lirone shaped like early venuses. The blockflutes, the recorders with their warm and woody sound. The tiny baroque guitar, cradled like a courageous lap-dog, and the harpsichords, the harpsichords: banquet tables of the basso-continuo; two banks of oars pulling across the river...