Word: lofts
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...Tureen. Yet artists managed to, at first by subterfuge. A sculptor might rent a loft for $100 or less a month, clean it out and install a folding bed that could disappear against the wall if a building inspector called. He had no security of tenure. The typical habit of SoHo slumlords, which persists today, was to offer no lease, wait for the artist to spend a few thousand dollars renovating the loft, and then arbitrarily double the rent. The pattern of exploitation worked because artists had nowhere else to go. There was no space uptown. Greenwich Village was already...
...Gottlieb and Barnett Newman). Kenneth Noland bought a storage building; Robert Rauschenberg, a flophouse-cum-church on Lafayette Street. The first artists' coop was set up in 1967 at 80 Wooster Street; by 1968, there were 15 such buildings, and there are at least 28 now. Today, a loft building that would have gone for $30,000 in 1960 is likely to carry a price...
...intricacies of the remainder. I'm sure. But once you've excised John Jaymes of Young American Enterprises, Sam Cutler, the Dead with their bright ideas, once you've reduced Belli to a harmless comic figure, and the Stones to unwitting spectators of their own spectacle, who's loft but the Angels, and what's left but another melodrama, one in which beefy Alfred Jarrys play the villains, and everyone else the innocents. A self-defined outlaw gag, but not the kind of outlaws that sign million dollar contracts, the Angels are denied appeal. Though Grace Slick says, "People...
...Connecticut framed like a ramifying tepee with 150 telephone poles (they were bolted together under the direction of a Norwegian shipwright). He also has designed buildings, like the Mechanic Theater in Baltimore, of an almost Egyptian heaviness. Currently his office is lodged on the top floor of a loft building overlooking Manhattan's East River. The loft is owned by a retailer of garden furniture who stores his surplus on the roof. There, Johansen entertains in a boneyard of leafy wrought-iron love seats, rusty trellises, cast-lead nymphs and salvaged Art Nouveau birdbaths. In those startling surroundings...
This production of The Rake is uneven, the first act going far too slowly, the others much more well-paced. The staging is ornate, with nothing loft to the viewer's imagination, including even the sedan chair in which Baba is carried around by her coterie of overdressed servants, and the two-foot-long stuffed bird she carries in her hand. Perhaps the most annoying part of the production is its director, Michael Kaye, who spent the early part of Thursday's performance bustling about officiously, but relatively silently, and then ruined the last act by shouting directions...