Word: expressionlessness
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...Tchaikovsky Romeo and Juliet fantasy-overture was disappointing despite occasional flashes. Runs which used to spell disaster for the strings were clean, and the horns were the best I've ever heard them. But the performance as a whole was dead; the woodwinds trod on the opening with an expressionless mezzo-forte, one passage of rich string chords was painfully out of tune, and Yannatos' overall interpretation was too straight. He seemed to have little interest in bringing out Tchaikovsky's natural schmaltz. With that sort of attitude, he probably shouldn't have performed Tchaikovsky...
...manner, and in his writing and speaking, he apparently has complete control over his emotions. They never intrude into the bright, short sentences. This could be the product of years of iron selfdiscipline and scholarly commitment, but Fairbank seems to possess a more natural gift--perspective. Behind that curious, expressionless face lies...
...just been added to the royal fleet of three Rolls-Royces, a Daimler, a Cadillac and a Mercedes. The irreverent young in the big cities question the point of keeping a royal family, but oldsters still burst into tears at the sight of their ex-god's expressionless face...
...spent their lives crusading vainly and have witnessed a great deal of violence and cruelty, they are convinced that everyone is basically good. Smiling, they distribute money to armless, legless beggars and cluck sadly at racial violence in the South. When they are pushed around for no reason by expressionless secret police and their innocent friends are beaten and locked up, they just keep smiling and don't think for a moment that Haiti's despotism might be less than benevolent. Yet we are asked to believe that they are perceptive and intelligent...
...name, Escobar, as too masculine-sounding. She came to the U.S. in 1950, settled in Manhattan, and studied with Hans Hofmann. She speaks in the shy monotone whisper of wind wafting through Spanish moss, seems always to be peeking around the corners of her long black hair with nearly expressionless stealth, and only the keenest humor will send a smile rippling across her lips. It is the same face that appears again and again in her art, penciled on wood, cast in plaster, even peeping from a pasted-on photograph. "Some people have accused me of narcissism," she says...