Word: sketches
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Brazil's Candido Portinari takes a more traditional approach to the subject. His sketch for the first of two 46-ft.-high murals for U.N.'s Manhattan headquarters (opposite) is a prism through which he sees war as a curse on all mankind. Instead of germs and peace doves, Portinari shows the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, dashing headlong on a mad, zigzag course through humanity. Hyenas roam his shattered world and lines of sobbing mothers bend in prayer for their lost sons...
...radical, dangerous experiment in sustained supersonic flight. Most of the small gallery of onlookers-pilots, engineers and Douglas executives-had seen it many times before, and presumably most of them had confidence in it. But few could have escaped some twinges of misgiving as the strange, sharklike craft (see sketch above) was prepared for flight...
Starting with Sky. Born in West Virginia, Leigh studied art for twelve years in Munich under a succession of adept nature painters named Rauff, Gsis, Loeftz and Lindenschmidt. They taught him to make a detailed charcoal sketch on canvas and paint over it, starting with the sky ("If there are no clouds, the sky may take no more than a day") and working toward the foreground, finishing each part separately. Such grandiose subjects as sunsets and stampedes, he learned, may take up to six months to finish. But for Leigh, the finished result, an almost photographic naturalism, is well worth...
...cartoons, five out of seven stories, three poems. Of course, Edwards helped him on a couple of stories but you'd never know it from the style. And what is there beside his stuff? The Wentworth piece, sure, probably the best he's done so far. Good sketch of an ill-clothed, ill-fed French family which waits months for a CARE package. When it comes, it's all American magazines. And Wes Johnson's idea about a holdup at the Cambridge Trust curb teller makes a good cartoon. But what else? Robinson keeps drawing those goddam spiderweb cartoons utterly...
With little pretense of plot, I Am a Camera tries to reproduce Isherwood's impressionistic picture of a decadent city. Essentially, however, the play is no more than a character sketch of the memorable Sally Bowles. Van Druten's efforts to dramatize other elements of Isherwood's portrait--particularly the plight of Jews in a Germany rotting with Naziism--are remarkably unimaginative. And less significant diversions--the American millionaire, the comic landlady--are written and played as stereotypes. Because of Julie Harris, however, I Am a Camera successfully captures the Sally of the Berlin Stories. The immature, flambouyant nymphomaniac steps...