Word: vagabonde
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1930-1939
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...seriously and solely engaged in making the camera tell what concentrated truth they can find for it. One. the oldest, is Alfred Stieglitz. Another is a Hungarian war photographer, Robert Capa (TIME, Feb. 24), now in China. A third, one of the most adventurous, is a 29-year-old vagabond Frenchman named Cartier-Bresson, whose abilities sober critics have called "magical." Apparently carefree but quick on the trigger, Cartier-Bresson has snapped unforgettable, revelatory pictures of commonplace and sub-commonplace scenes, from bare French cafe tables to Mexicans with their pants down. Closest to him among U. S. photographers...
Last night the Vagabond sat in his New room and reminisced. As idle driblets of thought and kaleidoscopic memories wafted their feather-like way through his brain, his gaze drifted around the many walls which encircle his new penthouse cubicle. Before him the desk, the calendar, the typewriter. Well enough; they had been so in the past. And there was the Falstaffian old leather Morris chair with its spinster companion, the ever slightly drunken bridge lamp, leaning confidentially over its shoulder--looking the same as ever. But will the old combination still breed the same pleasant spawn of thoughts...
There are probably a lot of good lectures going on here and there in this vast university, and the Vagabond probably ought to do something about it. You see, the only real official reason for and business of the Vagabond is to spy out the several academic gems which sparkle through the dull lode of thousands of ordinary lectures each year and pass the good word along to the student public--generally enhancing the picture with a few precious baubles of his own opinion on the subject. Yes, the Vag knows he ought to get down to business...
...Vagabond swore aloud as he suddenly discovered that he had written Albany, New York, in the space marked "College or Local Address...
...Vagabond unfolded himself creakily from his bed and silenced an impertinent alarm clock with a mighty blow. The fact that it was a bright morning penetrated his brain, and he wondered why he'd set the clock at all. A blurry glance at his desk calendar told him it was Friday, September 23. Resisting an impulse to say so what, Vag took to scrutinizing his room in order to discover what he was doing semi-awake at the depressing hour of eight-thirty. He noticed a familiar, ugly gray catalogue entitled "Official Register of Harv----." In a flash he understood...