Word: tans
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...summer day, artist Tan Swie Hian, 60, stands poised before a four-story-high canvas in the middle of St. Marcos Square, surrounded by Venice's celestial domes. Suddenly, Tan leaps toward the immense sheet, wielding his brush like a swordsman as he swiftly inscribes an immense poem; inky Chinese characters that tell of sleeping pillows and dreamy, butterfly wings. Singapore's most famous artist is doing at the Venice Biennale what he has long done back home in East Asia: combining East and West, through multiple disciplines, with the explosive precision of a bombmaker...
...whole, the crowds lining up are incredibly mixed, both ethnically and economically. I get to my local Coffee Bean in Westwood at 9:00 every weekday morning. Next to me are always the same group of regulars—a movie mogul type complete with Oakleys and a leathery tan, a young Asian girl sporting the world’s largest variety of UCLA shirts, a woman in her 80s after “a passion fruit iced tea and a bagel, extra cream cheese” and two Mexican construction workers on their mid-morning break...
...riddle. At the time, I never needed to take the train; my mother would drive me the five minutes to elementary school, and I wouldn’t have to meet up with friends in the city until high school, years later. So the thick, tan-painted pillars along Jamaica Avenue held up not only train tracks, but also a mysterious world—one literally parallel to my own, but full of details and experiences unlike any I would know down here...
...daily colonial life. Karen Penlington, raised in Hong Kong and the daughter of a judge, remembers them well. "Darling! Do I have memories! I practically grew up in the Ladies' Recreation Club [LRC]. We joined in 1969, and I would go to lie in the sun and get a tan with chums. We used to have great tennis parties and get tiddly on martinis. And I had my first crush on a fella there?an Argentine...
...evocation by Pyle and Faas of war-era Saigon and the world's "first living-room war" is brisk and familiar: the heart-stopping nosedive into Tan Son Nhut airport to avoid sniper fire; the U.S. military's "Five O'Clock Follies" briefings; as well as the discovery that TIME's chief Vietnamese reporter was a spy for the North. I read it with the nagging sense that once you've read all journalistic memoirs from 'Nam, you've still only read one (and it's called Dispatches...