Word: purees
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1950-1959
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Confessions of lost innocence are frequent. Writes Book Critic Lewis Gannett ('13): "I was the pure young man from a Western New York minister's home, who had never smoked more than a corn-silk cigarette, and tried to hold the freshman beer night ... to ginger ale. One learned." Artist Waldo Peirce ('07) admits that "Leavitt & Peirce was probably one of the reasons it took me five years to get a degree, though the B in A.B. didn't stand for billiards...
...still found in country districts, and the traditional peasant women's dress. Art lovers see even more in Haniwa. Wrote one Japanese critic: "Haniwa's geometrizing of natural forms is exactly in tune with the dicta of cubism. Artists are now ready to accept Haniwa as 'pure art' and as delightful, intuitive jugglings of basic sculptural forms...
...white-flowered gene, though suppressed, is still in existence. When red hybrid flowers are mated together, each seed in the second generation has a one-in-four chance of inheriting nothing but white-flowered genes. It will then bear white flowers, just as if its parents were of pure, white-flowered stock.* The other three-fourths of the seeds will bear red flowers...
...Speakers. The piece, on which Composer Stockhausen spent a year and a half, utilized the sound of the human voice along with pure electronic sounds. Fragmented into vowels and consonants and later reassembled, the voice sounded "Praise the Lord" over weird sonorities. Later, a panel tackled the question on everybody's mind: Is this still music? Yes, said the panelists (including Stockhausen), despite letters from puzzled listeners asking whether their radios had been affected by "interplanetary static" or whether they had been listening to "part of the opera Cat on a Hot Tin Roof...
Premeditated Crime is a chilling exercise in pure atmosphere wedded to a sadly penetrating knowledge of the heart. Arriving at a gloomy country home to settle a property matter, an examining magistrate finds the owner dead. A heart attack, obviously. But was it? Why are mother, son and daughter so rudely anxious to have the judge leave? Why are they so secretive, so oddly lacking in true grief? Combining the technique of the detective story with Dostoevskian insights, Author Witold Gombrowicz unravels a skein of conflicting family emotions and so clears the way to a final tragedy that...