Word: painterly
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...whorishness and innocence in the Wedekind plays, has become the eponym for an adaptation by Michael Feingold. Feingold, and the company in rehearsal, have updated the play by translating it to a contemporary landscape. So we get references to the Dalai Lama, Lulu moves on roller skates, Schwartz the painter becomes Carbone the fashion photographer, Rodrigo the acrobat becomes Juan dos Tres the welterweight champ--all of which is fine and good...
Ever since the ancient Greek painter Zeuxis astonished his audience, and created a durable legend, by painting a bunch of grapes so "real" that birds tried to eat them, the problems of illusion have been central to our sense of culture: How does one conjure up the presence of something that is not really there, and, once that is done, how do we know the exact limits of image and reality? We only see the dog in the corner or the Vermeer on the wall by mentally reassembling and interpret ing the stupendous variety of light waves reflected from them...
...nightly act at Paris' Théâtre du Gymnase. "Hey," Coluche begins in his usual patois, "we've negotiated a fantastic deal with the Soviets: we give them all our wheat, and they let us keep our coal." The son of an Italian immigrant house painter, Coluche, 36, has now become something more than a nightclub satirist puncturing the pretensions of politicians and diplomats in the coarse argot of la France profonde-the real France of factory workers, small farmers and shopkeepers. He has announced himself as a candidate in next year's presidential election...
...volumes; $150). In a way, these volumes, edited by four art historians, represent the truest kind of biography, for the decades have worn away old enmities, and what remains is the record of a genius who grew from American prodigy to European master. The attractive work should win the painter a new audience, and therefore deserves an alternative title: The Gentler Art of Making Friends...
...they stayed in the closet, curling up at the toes. In the late '50s, he and Snidow studied art at a school in Hollywood, of all places, and his G.I. Bill ran out, so he went back to Oklahoma. There he set himself up as an easel painter; commercial art didn't interest him. The paintings he liked to do interested almost no one else. What he painted was scenes of the Old West, cowboys and Indians, cattle and horses. Pictures scraggly with sagebrush, that nobody bought. He lugged his canvases to stock shows trying to peddle them...