Word: frosts
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1960-1969
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...sheer size and exactitude of some of Adams' landscapes achieve an effect perilously close to Cinerama, as in "Winter Frost, Yosemite." Wellesley, openmouthed before all 20 square feet of "Thunderstorm, the Teton Range and Snake River, Wyoming," could finally say of the uncannily highlighted water only "Well, you can see why they call it the Snake River, all right...
Gunn. In his day (1958-61), he was so cool that frost used to form on his dialogue. His wardrobe was so kempt that he had creases in his sweaters. Anyone who hired Private Eye Peter Gunn knew he was getting the real TV goods: come-what-mayhem, brisk backchat, and a solid Henry Mancini score between the commercials...
...Eliot's generation, Robert Frost seemed a throwback; yet, while he adhered to established forms, he commanded a deceptively simple vision of man's vanities, his heart and his land. More experimental, and less accessible, were William Carlos Williams, a true avant-garde poet and master of the spare, stripped-down image, and Wallace Stevens, a pointillist of light, color and all intangible things. Marianne Moore, now 79, constructs unique mosaics from conversations, newspaper clippings and even scientific tracts...
Against this background stands Robert Traill Spence Lowell. Echoes of many of his predecessors and colleagues can be found here and there in his work, although he lacks the resigned elegance and orthodox Christianity of Eliot, the homespun philosophy of Frost, the intellectual subtlety of Stevens, the wit of Auden, the wild...
...lolled in his room, surrounded by prints of Leonardo and Rembrandt, listening to Beethoven on his phonograph. He wrote poems full of violence and foreboding, black roses, a "plague" that "breathed the decay of centuries." No one then at Harvard was interested, so Lowell took his verses to Robert Frost, who was living near by. Frost read the first page of the Crusades opus. "You have no compression," he said, and then read aloud a short poem by William Collins, How Sleep the Brave. "That's not a great poem, but it's not too long." Lowell recalls...