Word: openwork
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...mangrove trunks are taken to carvers who shape them into fantastic "ancestor poles." Each pole generally has two male figures, one standing on the other's head. The buttress root serves the upper figure as a gigantic, openwork phallic symbol. In a final climactic ceremony, the ancestor poles are set up near the men's house, and the warriors stage a fierce mock battle followed by a wild dance in which the women attack...
Plain Jewel Casket. Placed almost directly in the center of bustling, industrial Coventry, the new cathedral makes no attempt at a dramatic façade. Its massive pink brick walls form a squat, solid fortress; its only spire is a relatively small, openwork metal fleche, topped by a painfully distorted cross (the building's detractors call it Radio Coventry). The long, saw-toothed east wall that runs along Coventry's crowded Priory Street is undecorated except for Sir Jacob Epstein's imposing four-ton figure of St. Michael staring down in triumph and compassion at the chained...
David Smith, 53, is the best of the living "ironmongers." His raw, openwork constructions of iron, silver and stainless steel stem from Spanish ironwork by way of Gonzalez, but they have a peculiarly American urgency and, so to speak, a questioning emptiness. Smith is the idol of young American sculptor-welders, who find that they can follow his lead on a large scale without too great expense (a big cast-bronze monument may cost $50,000 to erect; a welded steel one as little as $500). Smith stays more inventive than any of his imitators...
...others settled into familiar attitudes-little Justices Black and Frankfurter, alert and quick of eye, just able to peer over the back of the high mahogany bench; Murphy with a starched, far-off look; Jackson with his openwork, Dutch expression; Rutledge rocklike, Reed massive and heavy-jowled, Harold Burton with an air of avuncular interest. The court began to hand out what is promised by the marble figures on the wall: Divine Inspiration, Justice, Wisdom and Truth...
Louise graduated from Simmons College in Boston, a tidy, short, shirtwaisted feminist bundle of aggressive restlessness. She did research on constructive juvenile activities for a neurasthenic Yale professor until the professor's wife, objecting, among other things, to the openwork yoke of Louise's shirtwaist, fired her. New Haven's lights "were bright and made a glow in the sky. The engines in its factories throbbed and hummed. ... It was breath-catching. Home was a million miles away. This was the maelstrom of life...