Word: portraited
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John Birch's Belmont headquarters are quiet enough. There's a receptionist or two. The carpet has a dull, worm-out and lifeless look. McManus's cramped office is strewn with assorted books, papers, and memorabilia, and on the wall hangs a portrait of Marine General Chester Puller, a Korean War hero...
...promising writer whose early fiction appeared in the 1960s in Novy Mir, the respected Soviet literary monthly, Vladimov has not had a word published in the Soviet Union since July 1969. His fiction evidently drew too accurate a portrait of how Stalin's shadow still hangs over the Soviet system. His best-known novel in the West, Faithful Ruslan, an imaginative story about a labor-camp guard dog who finds he cannot live in a world without prisoners, is available only to Soviets willing to risk passing along hand-typed copies...
...august figures and delicious feats of natural observation; the huge and crushingly elaborate Farnese altar cross and candlesticks, finished in 1582 by Antonio Gentili; a sumptuous set of gold-ground vestments embroidered for Clement VIII; and some newly cleaned terra cotta studies by Bernini, along with his bronze portrait bust of his main patron, Urban VIII (1623-44), the man who did more than any other Pope to reshape the appearance of Rome (and who had all the nightingales in the Vatican gardens killed because their warbling disturbed his sleep...
...populist" aims. Met Director Philippe de Montebello makes no bones about this. "The prime moving purpose of the assembly of these works," he says, "is not to make a contribution to scholarship. We have tried to make a distillation, to save the public exhaustion. How many late Roman family portrait busts do most people want to see?" Fair enough, but to lug (for instance) tons of Egyptian sculpture from the Vatican to the Met, whose own Egyptian collection is one of the wonders of museology, is not distillation but excess. The Met insists that the sole aim of the show...
Perhaps as incendiary an example of this revisionism as Brustein has ever offered is the A.R.T.'s current Three Sisters, a production by Rumanian Director Andrei Serban that transforms the customarily lugubrious Chekhov portrait of a doomed family into a knock about farce. Actors pout like children on a stage strewn with Producer toys. Earnest philosophizing about suffering and social evolution is played as vapid bourgeois chitchat. The fondest wish of the Prozorov sisters - to return to the gaiety of Moscow - is voiced as a giggling endearment to a baby. Yet the essence of the play is conveyed with...