Word: hut
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...storm & strife of what Mexicans still refer to as "the revolution"-a confused and confusing mixture of banditry, adobe-hut Marxism, nationalism and agrarian reform which has been seething for 30 years-rose three great revolutionary artists. Their lurid propaganda paintings (reaching Mexico's illiterate peons far more effectively than printed words) covered walls from Nuevo Leon to Yucatan and revived the art of fresco painting on a scale unequaled since the Italian Renaissance. The three: stocky, effusive Diego Rivera; grim, brooding José Clemente Orozco; pallid, green-eyed, conspiratorial David Alfaro Siquieros...
...Meharry brothers was carting grist from the mill to his midwestern farm, when his wagon bogged down in the mud. A Negro living nearby went to his rescue, but night fell on an unbudged wagon. So Meharry accepted the Negro's offer of shelter in his hut. Next morning they freed the wagon. Said the pious farmer to his helper: "I have no money to repay your great kindness. But I hope some day to be able to do something for you and your people." There were five Meharry brothers: Alexander, Hugh, Samuel, Jesse and David - all prosperous farmers...
...Senator from Kentucky, was a man who wouldn't harm a flea. A peace-loving, Sunday-school-going ex-judge, he had shaggy grey locks and a nose of such W. C. Fieldsian proportions that he was once described as "looking like a rhinoceros crashing through a grass hut...
...prelude, in which the camera follows a long caravan across the mountains into the dirty, becrusted little town of Tucson, is filled with all the miscellany which Hollywood attaches to a scene to make it Big. The Tucson of 1860 is painstakingly reproduced to the smallest adobe-brick hut; the streets are crawling with extras, packed with props. Before the end there appear at one time or another 600 head of Hereford cattle, 485 horses, 1,200 ("thousands of") extras, 150 rippling, bare-skinned Papago Indians...
...tone is there from the start when Gaudio's camera looks on the lifeless landscape of the rubber plantation. Moving slowly, it picks up the dripping of tapped rubber trees, a thatched hut filled with sleeping natives, another hut hung with drying rubber strips, glides beside a fence to where a pigeon is drowsing. The silence is heavy with long, sharp shadows. Suddenly a shot splits the still air, the pigeon flaps off, a figure staggers onto the porch of a house in the background...