Word: fingernail
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...been so long since one of the juvenile leads of '60s New York art was seen, at a party, to peer at one of Alexander Liberman's painted steel sculptures and snicker, "Huh! Vogue fingernail red!" A common prejudice: for years Liberman has borne the reputation of having too much grace under too little pressure. He is accused of having a "designer's eye." Spelled out, this means that Liberman is good at reeling off elegant solutions to undemanding formal problems but has no very striking imagination of his own. Besides, he is editorial director of Conde...
Italian Leprechaun. The Braves are the most improbable club in many years to make the playoffs. Their star center, Bob McAdoo, is a fingernail-biting acrophobiac who played with erratic brilliance in his first year but is leading the N.B.A. in scoring in his second. Guard Ernie DiGregorio, barely 6 ft., looks like an Italian leprechaun more suited to racking balls in a pool hall than leading the league in assists. Forward Jim McMillian, the guiding spirit of the team, is a thoughtful graduate from Columbia University, hardly a major source of basketball talent. Two other steady performers, Forward Garfield...
...same degree, even though the atmosphere of suspension and privilege peculiar to the recent avant-garde remains. But the trouble with most body pieces is that they are either so small in conception as to be negligible-for instance, Dennis Oppenheim slowly tearing off a section of his fingernail-or so grotesque in their implications, as with poor Schwarzkogler, that they amount to overkill. Triviality or threat: take your choice...
...strength to take the meet, or to force it down to the final relay. In several instances, though, Crimson swimmers were beaten by small fractions of a second. In the 200 yd. back, Paul Scott was touched out by .4 of a second, and Dick Baughman came within a "fingernail", as Gambril termed it, of second place in the 500 yd. free...
...always with Simon, this is a situation comedy. Mel (Peter Falk) is a 47-year-old Manhattan executive. His corporate ship is sailing the rough seas of red ink, and members of the staff are being thrown overboard. In Act I, Mel has reached the fingernail-nibbling stage. Will he go next? Equally worried colleagues arrive at the office shortly after daybreak: "They're afraid if you get there late," Mel explains, "they'll sell your desk...