Word: greatcoats
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...blown leaf of her, a runaway wheel," the acclaimed Australian writer, now 72, prefers to explore more spiritual intimacies. This is the theme of his seven new short stories, each in its own way a memento mori. In War Baby, an abandoned son wears his late father's R.A.A.F. greatcoat in preparation for fighting in Vietnam; in Elsewhere, a Blue Mountains father grieves for his lost daughter by reading poetry dedicated to her at her Sydney wake; a composer watches in wonder as his wife sings his music to life in The Domestic Cantata. These are consummations of the soul...
Bearded, bundled in his greatcoat, the young man stares defiantly at passersby as if to say that although he is only 19, he already knows that he will dominate the art world for the rest of his life. If anyone doubts the implicit truth of Pablo Picasso's 1901 self-portrait, he has only to walk farther into Paris' new Picasso Museum, which opened last week. There, spread out like all the treasures from Aladdin's cave, are the gems of nearly three-quarters of a century of labor: 228 paintings, 149 sculptures, nearly 1,500 drawings and just...
...obsolete propagandist style is to miss its deadlier thrust. What K & M are getting at is not just totalitarian art, but official art as such. Stalin and the Muses-showing Clio, muse of history, presenting a volume for revision to the mustachioed god in his transcendent white military greatcoat-is "objectively" a hilarious spoof, done in clumsily tight parody of the 17th century grand manner. But then, if these sleek pictorial tropes are I so absurd when lavished on Stalin, why should they be any less so when used on Louis XIV, Peter the Great or Sany other enlightened despot...
...readers with almost Proust-like patience have even counted the number of images contained in Remembrance of Things Past -4,578. The Master himself has turned into a series of literary images, perhaps at the expense of his own work. There is le petit Marcel in his fur-lined greatcoat, posed like a sad Charlie Chaplin. Or running from salon to salon: the funniest and crudest young man in any room. Or crouched motionless before a rose, as if he could devour it and the whole world just by looking. Finally attention is drawn to those eyes: great smudged pools...
...leader would envy. Tenor Jon Vickers gave glorious vocal heart to Florestan's piteous degradation. Austrian Stage Director Otto Schenk clothed the production in medieval-dungeon darkness that gave way brilliantly at the end to the blinding whiteness of day-and freedom. Though the Nazi-like greatcoat worn by Pizarro (formidably portrayed by Baritone Walter Berry) was an irrelevant touch, the eyeglasses he took from a pocket-a desk man-were the perfect way to suggest Pizarro as not just a vague, timeless man of evil but the product of a villainous system...