Word: uptowners
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After lunch and some antique shopping along nearby Magazine Street, it's time to move on to some jazz. A classic combo is dinner at Jacques Imo's, an uptown neighborhood shack with some of the best food in the city (its mouth-watering fried chicken is served with the house salad), and music at the Maple Leaf Bar next door. Don't expect to lounge at the Maple Leaf; it's packed by 11 on most nights. But if favorites like the Rebirth Brass Band, a group of ex--street musicians, are playing, you'll be dancing anyway...
...little wonder it’s earned a reputation as one of Boston’s see-and-be-seen hotspots du jour. The menu’s high-end, Northern Italian-inspired specialties exhibit genuine flavor and flair—albeit in small portions. The scene—uptown New York lounge with a clean Italian edge—lives up to the Café’s claim of “chic yet casual.” For as few as eight guests, the restaurant offers you the run of its private room upstairs, decked with...
...this approach to explore the idea of spatial politics in his talk entitled “Real Estate and Artistic Identity in Late 19th-Century New York.” He focused on the search for a new home in Manhattan, and used the debate between members (uptown vs. downtown, sponsors vs. independence, galleries vs. school rooms, a highly unpopular proposal in Central Park) as a symbol of the rocky transformation of art’s role into something with high social cachet...
...uptown Manhattan, perched on a sofa in his sumptuous apartment, with its housekeeper and its blue baby grand and its views of Central Park, Wolfe in person is a sharp contrast to his personality on the page. His prose bristles with italics and exclamation points and repetitions--repetitions!--for emphasis, but Wolfe himself speaks softly, slowly and a little hoarsely, with the ruins of a long-ago Virginia accent. He has always been dapper, but now he is a dapper old man. His appearance is not so much wolfish as avian: his frame is slight, his nose hooked and beaky...
...Diana?s duet gave Mary a brainstorm: let?s take the kids to see ?42nd Street? (a road-show company of which Beth had taken the kids to in San Francisco) on 42nd Street. We had less than an hour to don our rain-gear, take a subway uptown and hope tickets were still available for the 8 o?clock performance. The deluge outside only heightened our giddy mood; some of us sang ?Singin? in the Rain? while others whirled, Gene Kelly-style, around lampposts. We arrived at the Ford Theatre and snapped up three pairs of seats and, thanks...