Word: gazes
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...been munching on my sneaker all week long after my Cornell game prediction, but with a gaze at the heavens and a glance into the Pi Eta Club garbage can, here are my picks...
While Gund Hall rose agonizingly to the east of Mem Hall, students and visitors could gaze down on its model in the Great Space of Robinson Hall, former home of the GSD. From the model viewer's God's and the Harvard course cataloque's vantage point, one's attention was centered on the football stadium tiered studio roof--a feature than cannot be seen from any ground view. Rather, when coming out of the year and looking past Mem Hall the image is not of a football stadium but of a "medieval-modern" fortress with its fiberglass parapets...
Eleanor McGovern works a different vein. Tiny though she is, her handclasp is as firm as a bricklayer's. There is no coyness at all in the level gaze of her round, china-blue eyes. She gives speeches everywhere, serious ones that she writes herself; and they are almost always new ones, an incredible practice in the jet-stop era of set speeches...
...will be remembered, however, for Peter O'Toole's Jack, a performance of such intensity that it may trouble sleep as surely as it will haunt memory. All actors can play insanity; few play it well. O'Toole begins where other actors stop, with the unfocused gaze, the abrupt bursts of frenzied high spirits and precipitous depressions. Funny, disturbing, finally devastating, O'Toole finds his way into the workings of madness, revealing the anger and consuming anguish at the source. Jay Cocks
...Moist Gaze. Meantime we have Days. It is a characteristically hefty tome chronicling virtually every day in the life of an admirable West Country schoolmaster-a sort of block off the old Chips. Never mind the subversive rot that Waugh, Orwell and Cyril Connolly wrote about the English public school. Delderfield's Bamfylde is a cozy, character-building place. Pranks are played, faculty rivalries worked out, young minds awakened, while over it all Delderfield nods with the benign and sometimes moist gaze of an Old Boy. There seems to be a streak of self-identification in the author...