Word: dyes
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Backstage at the New York City Opera last week, Head Costumer J. Edgar Joseph had a problem. Would the off-white silk nightgown take to the rose dye? If not, Diva Beverly Sills would have to portray the heroine of Donizetti's Anna Bolena 30 hours later in a hand-me-down from Massenet's Manon. The dilemma was only one of several dozen facing Joseph at the time. Suddenly he rose from his chair, walked to a big dressing mirror and began screaming at himself. "What's the use of yelling at someone else?" he said...
...watery brown eyes stare out from sockets sunk into folds of flaccid flesh. Thin purple veins straggle across the high cheekbones, so close to the surface that they almost seem etched on the first layer of skin. The second chin sags into a second throat. Black dye has been used on the swept-back hair, but the cosmetic is not enough. Juan Domingo Perón, almost 78, looks his age -and feels it. He tires easily; he has trouble concentrating. Yet he must try to marshal his failing faculties. Nearly two decades after he was run out of Argentina...
...public-relations disaster. Californians promptly began a grass-roots boycott of Standard's Chevron gas stations. A group of 30 pickets, including several Jews for Jesus, marched outside Standard's San Francisco headquarters; some advocated burning Chevron credit cards. One night bags of red dye, symbolizing blood, were spattered against the headquarters building; an anonymous caller told the Associated Press that the act was designed to get Standard to retract its policy. Across the continent, a few Exxon customers, who apparently confused the company's former name-Standard Oil Co. (New Jersey)-with California Standard, threatened...
...orchestra of stiffly profiled girls against the beautifully austere background of his black and white marble palace (see color page); a Mughal potentate presides over the fertility celebration of Holi, while the white-robed members of his court play at a mock battle, squirting each other with red dye from syringes...
...ignores the implications suggested by the community's opinion that Francis came home from the war, not because he was ill, but because he was a coward. His hero wanders silently and rather idiotically from his turreted home to a dye-works in the depths of the slums, and leads the Oppressed Workers out into the sunshine, "because we all should be free like the birds." He throws his father's entire stock of materials out the window into the streets, explaining to his infuriated parent that "all our treaures are in heaven," oblivious to the fact that the impoverished...