Word: velvets
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...Malraux. After first viewing a roomful of statuary entitled "The Theban Cradle of the Child King," the visitor accompanies the boy on his twilight journey from death and burial to resurrection and fusion with Osiris, god of the dead. In a dimly lit Salle Royale hung with blue velvet, glows the gold funeral chair, with its big-horned sacred cows for armrests, that was made to carry Tut on his postmortal trip. The room also glows with gold objects that surrounded him in life: his gold armchair trimmed with ebony and ivory, his royal scepters, glittering earrings and necklaces...
...funeral chamber" is hung with orange velvet to emphasize the soft transparency of huge alabaster jars. A small rotunda with illuminated parchments re-creates the atmosphere of paintings on tomb walls. The primeval marshes where, according to Egyptian belief, the world began and the dead person's metamorphosis took place, are evoked by a wall of papyrus, which in turn gives way to the dramatic climax of the show: the great funeral mask with its blaze of gold, lapis lazuli, carnelian and turquoise. Altogether, it is small wonder that in the first 20 days, some 180,000 Frenchmen have...
...restaurant headwaiters, who are still weathering the onslaught of women in pants suits. But it appeals strongly to brolly males on both sides of the Atlantic. Bound for a first-night supper party with Princess Margaret in London recently, Lord Snowdon slipped on a black wool turtleneck under his velvet dinner jacket. But what suits Lord Snowdon may not suit everybody. Gibed the London Daily Mirror: "Will these commoners never learn...
...many musicians, the most fascinating psychic jungle is that of the symphony orchestra. Flutists tell dark tales of suicides among "rejected" second violinists; trumpet players attribute the snobbism of first violinists to an "identity crisis" resulting from their "cloistered, velvet-pants upbringing." And almost everyone is convinced that all oboe and bassoon players are a little batty. London's Royal Philharmonic members nod understandingly when one of their fellow players, Nicholas Reader, admits that he reads fairy tales to his bassoon each night...
...rage: they insinuated, they needled, they enticed. Both marvelous singer-actors, they bent and shaded their voices in a seemingly infinite variety of veiled sneers, smiling threats and choked curses. In duets, Ludwig's vibrant, richly textured mezzo-soprano enfolded Berry's robust, securely focused baritone like velvet over steel. A blend of poetry and power, their singing was eloquent proof that strife can be beautiful...