Word: kimono
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...intimacy of her parlor, the frail old woman in the gold ballet slippers and purple kimono played some of Mozart's loveliest and most deceptively simple music (Sonatas K. 282, 283, 311, 333, Rondo in A Minor, K. 511, Country Dances, K. 606) as RCA Victor engineers recorded her art, sometimes for five hours at a stretch. By now, her fingers were gnarled and clawlike; yet her articulation was so sure, her tone never more pure. After a year of daily sessions, her recordings won cheers as one of the most important contributions to the interpretation of Mozart (TIME...
...wid01wed Toyono moved with her son into a little house in Hirokawa. Last weekend Toyono slipped away from a small party her son was giving, politely pulled the paper-screen door of her closet shut, and hanged herself with the blue-and-white sash of her Kurume-gasuri kimono...
...hapless wife had not only to keep house, bear children and submit to her mother-in-law's tyranny, but also try desperately to hold her husband against the competition of "pillow" geishas, concubines and casual prostitutes. The tea ceremony, the fan, the kimono, flower arranging, the obi, the intricate hairdo, the beautifully mannered deference-all became subtle weapons of allurement. The kimono was cunningly cut to reveal the nape of the neck, a feature that to Japanese men seems more erotic than bosom or thigh...
...rich in theater craft-Jo Mielziner's doom-dappled lighting, Laurence Rosenthal's eerily instrumented score, Oliver Messel's turntable forest of disenchantment. Apart from a U.N.-like babel of accents, the brilliant cast often achieves a triumph of mime over matter. Radiant, in white kimono, as netted moonlight, Claire Bloom is part lotus flower, part flower of evil. Noel Willman's samurai is a bred-in-the-bone aristocrat, and Rod Steiger's bandit a bite-to-the-bone outlaw...
...only by a fire pit sunk in the earthen floor. In years when the rice crop was good, Ichijo's farmers eked out a bare existence. When the crop failed, they sold their daughters to the city brothels. Steeped in this tradition, one of Ichijo's wrinkled, kimono-clad elders reflected with horror last week on Mrs. Sato's latest acquisition. "Indecent extravagance," he moaned...