Word: emile
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Neva Goodwin's "Mark Hatfield, Western Progressive" is a treacly success story of the sort I had hoped not to meet again in this journal. Emil Frankel's "Crisis in Republican Tradition" is a bizarre blending of truism, commonplace, and political myth appropriately flavored with citations from Russell Kirk and Goals For Americans. "Dynamic energy," Frankel insists, "Vibrant center. Creative traditionalism," and concludes that "It is the danger of depersonalization and conformity which must be fought in out society." I still don't know what liberal Republicans are. If they are simply a Crolyite fan club, why doesn't Frankel...
...German Expressionist Emil Nolde, colors had a life of their own: "Weeping and laughing, hot and holy, like love songs and eroticism, like chants and magnificent chorales. Vibrating, they peal like silver bells and clang like bronze bells, proclaiming happiness, passion and love, soul, blood and death." The "sweetness, often sugariness" of Renoir and Monet was not to his harsher taste, and he complained bitterly in the years before World War II that "their art, because it meets popular taste, is elected darling of the world...
...German Artist." Nolde himself would have scorned such a simple pigeonhole. "Intellectuals and literati call me an expressionist," he once exploded. "I do not like this narrow classification. A German artist, that I am." Born Emil Hansen in the north Schleswig village of Nolde (he did not change his name until he married, at 34, in 1901), he identified himself with the bleak environment of north Germany, acquiring an outer taciturnity and an inner turbulence shared by those other brooding giants of the north: Norwegian Edvard Munch and Belgian Recluse James Ensor. As a peasant lad, Nolde was early given...
Silents Please (ABC, 10:30-11 p.m.). Emil Jannings is a jealous trapeze artist in the German film, Variety...
This Kafkaotic little (15 minutes) fable, created by Raymond Polanski, a 19-year-old student at the Polish film school in Warsaw, mingles slapstick and horror with a screw-loose intensity seldom seen on screen since Emil Jannings went berserk in the last reel of The Blue Angel. What does it mean? Obviously nothing favorable to Poland's Communist society, but one guess is as good as another. One guess: in an evil world, virtue is an unbearable burden...