calming
It's a gentle room. Blonde wood floors, small folding chairs, purple, pink, and light blue yoga mats rolled up in the corner. A diaphanous, dark curtain has been drawn across the floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
celebrating
For his son's birthday, he asks other family members to send in warm greetings and anecdotes that collectively create a picture of the young man's character and all the good he's done for the people close to him.
concert
At the subway station, there's a heavy, happy woman belting out James Brown's "I Feel Good," and her performance is full of real joy. A few hours later, on my return trip, I see that she's gone, and in her place are a small group of men that seem to be combining a bagpipe with jazz, an effort more creative than successful.
disposition
I'm settled awkwardly at a table, sipping spiked cider and not sure I'll find anyone to talk to. Two people find me though. They're lovely, and the afternoon swims by on laughter and food.
grimly
A few hours spent looking up health insurance rates and coverage.
stuffing
Our afternoon is hurrying to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant for greasy food, eating it too quickly at a small park, and running to catch a movie. Bloated but satisfied, we arrive late enough to miss the previews.
vibes
Is this guy flirting with me? He's in my personal space, but he's from a culture where personal space is minimal, so I don't know. He's also touching my arm a lot and talking at length about James Bond. It's one of those times I wish I could read social cues more easily. In any case, I learn a lot about James Bond.
Showing posts with label performance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label performance. Show all posts
Friday, May 18, 2018
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Week in Seven Words #396
businesslike
There are several groups meeting in the atrium. One is for learning Spanish, another for figuring out how to make your home more neat. Although the neater home group is the one I should be signing up for, I've joined a discussion on streamlining business processes. It takes a while to get started. The host shows up late; most of the people who RSVP'ed don't turn up at all. (The conversation is interesting anyway.)
entertaining
A mariachi band steps into the subway car with the suddenness of a channel change. Everything's bright and lively and loud for a couple of minutes. Later on in the ride, as the train stalls on a bridge, breakdancers appear, a hair's breadth away from head injury as they swing wildly from the poles and do backflips.
gratified
A young boy and his mom sit in the mouth of a blue tent that's backlit by the sun. They take turns blowing bubbles.
happenstance
The different parts of Prospect Park feel only loosely connected. We explore a forest where a stream slips through tumbled rocks. We come to a dog beach where people wade ankle deep and throw toys for their dogs to splash after. A picnic area floats past us at one point, in a mist of smoke. We follow the tail of a larger body of water; it's serpentine and keeps changing shape. Clearings open up, criss-crossed with shadow, and large meadows suddenly spring into view, bared to the sun. These places don't feel like parts of the same park, only that they settled next to each other by chance the day we visited, so we could walk from one to the other.
overspread
In these narrow streets, a theme emerges of brick submerged in leaves. Trees screen polished windows, and plants spill out of window boxes.
preaching
A passionate sermon in a woman's voice resounds through a barred door. It's a storefront church that contains a cauldron of apocalyptic feeling.
transportation
The lower level of the museum is home to vintage train cars, one of them displaying an ad for cocoa with eerie children. The upper level shows a history of city transportation and its challenges, from overcrowding to extensive flooding.
There are several groups meeting in the atrium. One is for learning Spanish, another for figuring out how to make your home more neat. Although the neater home group is the one I should be signing up for, I've joined a discussion on streamlining business processes. It takes a while to get started. The host shows up late; most of the people who RSVP'ed don't turn up at all. (The conversation is interesting anyway.)
entertaining
A mariachi band steps into the subway car with the suddenness of a channel change. Everything's bright and lively and loud for a couple of minutes. Later on in the ride, as the train stalls on a bridge, breakdancers appear, a hair's breadth away from head injury as they swing wildly from the poles and do backflips.
gratified
A young boy and his mom sit in the mouth of a blue tent that's backlit by the sun. They take turns blowing bubbles.
happenstance
The different parts of Prospect Park feel only loosely connected. We explore a forest where a stream slips through tumbled rocks. We come to a dog beach where people wade ankle deep and throw toys for their dogs to splash after. A picnic area floats past us at one point, in a mist of smoke. We follow the tail of a larger body of water; it's serpentine and keeps changing shape. Clearings open up, criss-crossed with shadow, and large meadows suddenly spring into view, bared to the sun. These places don't feel like parts of the same park, only that they settled next to each other by chance the day we visited, so we could walk from one to the other.
overspread
In these narrow streets, a theme emerges of brick submerged in leaves. Trees screen polished windows, and plants spill out of window boxes.
preaching
A passionate sermon in a woman's voice resounds through a barred door. It's a storefront church that contains a cauldron of apocalyptic feeling.
transportation
The lower level of the museum is home to vintage train cars, one of them displaying an ad for cocoa with eerie children. The upper level shows a history of city transportation and its challenges, from overcrowding to extensive flooding.
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Week in Seven Words #383
afternoon
A fatty meal, followed by shooting hoops in the driveway and a video introduction to the largest dogs in the world.
creepily
It would be an eerie statue to visit at night, the Alice in Wonderland who sits on her giant mushroom at the east side of the park. She's smiling, dead-eyed, while the Mad Hatter grins unpleasantly beside her.
employees
On three occasions, strangers approach me at a bookstore or convenience store for advice on which birthday card to buy for their boss. I don't know why I've been chosen to help, but it's a responsibility I try not to take too lightly.
hearty
Somewhere in the trees, there's a frenzied drummer. To the east, a charity walk pours down a broad paved path. Cheerleaders with dazzling pom-poms shout encouragement. In a clearing across from the cheerleaders, LARPers skirmish with foam weapons. Another group practices capoeira, and a saxophonist, playing under a bridge, is enfolded in the echoes of his music.
infusing
On a terrace by the lake, a man with a guitar sings "Layla." He performs with heart and a voice rough with age. His music colors the stones and the water, and it nourishes the people who walk by. A few smile at him.
pivot
The kids are in high spirits. They dance (including swing dance!) and sing to the music churned out by a piano player who labors body and soul to do justice to Duke Ellington. The evening's low point is at the start, when a teacher uses the words 'hip' and 'cool' and then looks like she can't get the taste of them out of her mouth.
ungovernable
The storm smashes through the park like a tantrum. Branches dangle like the arms of marionettes.
A fatty meal, followed by shooting hoops in the driveway and a video introduction to the largest dogs in the world.
creepily
It would be an eerie statue to visit at night, the Alice in Wonderland who sits on her giant mushroom at the east side of the park. She's smiling, dead-eyed, while the Mad Hatter grins unpleasantly beside her.
employees
On three occasions, strangers approach me at a bookstore or convenience store for advice on which birthday card to buy for their boss. I don't know why I've been chosen to help, but it's a responsibility I try not to take too lightly.
hearty
Somewhere in the trees, there's a frenzied drummer. To the east, a charity walk pours down a broad paved path. Cheerleaders with dazzling pom-poms shout encouragement. In a clearing across from the cheerleaders, LARPers skirmish with foam weapons. Another group practices capoeira, and a saxophonist, playing under a bridge, is enfolded in the echoes of his music.
infusing
On a terrace by the lake, a man with a guitar sings "Layla." He performs with heart and a voice rough with age. His music colors the stones and the water, and it nourishes the people who walk by. A few smile at him.
pivot
The kids are in high spirits. They dance (including swing dance!) and sing to the music churned out by a piano player who labors body and soul to do justice to Duke Ellington. The evening's low point is at the start, when a teacher uses the words 'hip' and 'cool' and then looks like she can't get the taste of them out of her mouth.
ungovernable
The storm smashes through the park like a tantrum. Branches dangle like the arms of marionettes.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Week in Seven Words #182
hurried
A cold wind whisks me off the bench.
merry-go-round
Toddlers play tag, round and round the fountain in a flurry of giggles and screams. It falls on the youngest, a boy with curly brown hair and a shy smile, to be "it" most of the time; occasionally, his mother scoops him up and runs with him to give him an advantage over the others.
pestilential
At a small park by the subway station, a rat pokes around an elevated bed of shrubs, as people sit and read and chat just a foot or two from its twitching nose.
pyretic
The clock face looks feverish in the dark.
rags
A curtain of gnats hang over the lakeside path.
stomp
The show is a celebration of percussion; anything from stomping feet to brooms to trashcans can be turned into a musical instrument. Even newspapers can rustle together in a compelling rhythm.
unhurried
I'm not sure where I am, only that it won't be hard to find my way out. In the meantime, I'm surprised by the appearance of a swampy pond, a stream pouring over leaf matter and rock, a clearing covered in yellow grass where an empty bench awaits a reader.
A cold wind whisks me off the bench.
merry-go-round
Toddlers play tag, round and round the fountain in a flurry of giggles and screams. It falls on the youngest, a boy with curly brown hair and a shy smile, to be "it" most of the time; occasionally, his mother scoops him up and runs with him to give him an advantage over the others.
pestilential
At a small park by the subway station, a rat pokes around an elevated bed of shrubs, as people sit and read and chat just a foot or two from its twitching nose.
pyretic
The clock face looks feverish in the dark.
rags
A curtain of gnats hang over the lakeside path.
stomp
The show is a celebration of percussion; anything from stomping feet to brooms to trashcans can be turned into a musical instrument. Even newspapers can rustle together in a compelling rhythm.
unhurried
I'm not sure where I am, only that it won't be hard to find my way out. In the meantime, I'm surprised by the appearance of a swampy pond, a stream pouring over leaf matter and rock, a clearing covered in yellow grass where an empty bench awaits a reader.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Interview with John Hayes
For a few years now I've been following Robert Frost's Banjo, a blog run by John Hayes, and it's my great pleasure to bring you this interview with him. His blog has introduced me to a lot of beautiful poetry and music (including his own), and I've bookmarked many of the posts for repeated reading and listening. I also have copies of two of his poetry collections, the excellent Spring Ghazals (which I reviewed here back in 2010) and The Days of Wine and Roses.
Bio:
John Hayes is a musician & poet who lives in Portland, Oregon in the company of several guitars, banjo & ukuleles. As a musician, he has performed with various bands in Idaho & Oregon, including the Alice in Wonder Band, the Bijou Orchestrette, Five & Dime Jazz, Bonnie Glenshee & others. As a solo performer, Hayes plays old-time blues, focusing particularly on music from the Mississippi Delta region from the 1920s & 30s. As a poet, Hayes obtained an MFA from the University of Virginia, where he studied with Charles Wright & Greg Orr. He has self-published four collections of poetry.
On to the interview...
Bio:
John Hayes is a musician & poet who lives in Portland, Oregon in the company of several guitars, banjo & ukuleles. As a musician, he has performed with various bands in Idaho & Oregon, including the Alice in Wonder Band, the Bijou Orchestrette, Five & Dime Jazz, Bonnie Glenshee & others. As a solo performer, Hayes plays old-time blues, focusing particularly on music from the Mississippi Delta region from the 1920s & 30s. As a poet, Hayes obtained an MFA from the University of Virginia, where he studied with Charles Wright & Greg Orr. He has self-published four collections of poetry.
On to the interview...
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Worth Watching: Victor Victoria (1982)
Title: Victor Victoria
Director: Blake Edwards
Language: English
Rating: PG
It's 1934, and the scene is Paris. Victoria Grant (Julie Andrews) is an out-of-work soprano who can hit fearsomely high notes. She meets Toddy (Robert Preston), a self-described "old queen" and out-of-work cabaret singer. He has an idea to help her break into the Parisian nightclub scene: she'll pass herself off as a female impersonator named Victor. Everyone will think she's a man who's really good at looking and singing like a woman. Other than Toddy, no one will know that she's a real woman.
Director: Blake Edwards
Language: English
Rating: PG
It's 1934, and the scene is Paris. Victoria Grant (Julie Andrews) is an out-of-work soprano who can hit fearsomely high notes. She meets Toddy (Robert Preston), a self-described "old queen" and out-of-work cabaret singer. He has an idea to help her break into the Parisian nightclub scene: she'll pass herself off as a female impersonator named Victor. Everyone will think she's a man who's really good at looking and singing like a woman. Other than Toddy, no one will know that she's a real woman.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Performance artists
In New York:
and old York:
The one from New York (I'll call her the Blanched Ballerina) was posing in Central Park. The one from England (Purple Pedaler?) was in The Shambles.
It seems like both photos captured them mid-motion, but neither one was moving, just being as still as possible and drawing people towards them with their novel presence.
and old York:
The one from New York (I'll call her the Blanched Ballerina) was posing in Central Park. The one from England (Purple Pedaler?) was in The Shambles.
It seems like both photos captured them mid-motion, but neither one was moving, just being as still as possible and drawing people towards them with their novel presence.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Week in Seven Words #21
accented
Out in the hall a French woman and a Russian woman speak in English, their voices bright and cordial. Soon after, a Greek woman speaks boisterously on the phone, sometimes in English and other times in her native tongue. In a different time and place, two men from Ireland harmonize together on a stage and banter between songs.
limpid
On a day when heat chokes the air and cars snarl along the road, I listen to limpid music; it spills and flows over all the other sounds - horns, brakes, birds, the stutter of machinery, conversation, the creak of trees in the wind.
loop
We could easily have taken the bus, but why not walk? Without walking we wouldn't have as much time to talk, or see the river at thirty minutes to midnight, or come across that sculpture with the words carved into it from several different languages, French and Greek included.
pluvial
There's a primordial fury to the rain; it mashes up the ground, crackles on the windows, and clots the air.
sundered
In the wake of the storm, trees stretch out leafy and shattered on walkways, cars, and roof corners. Branches lie in all angles on the sidewalks and sometimes dangle in the embrace of other branches that have remained aloft and intact.
tunefulness
Music in a long dark room lit with candles in glass, the illustrations on the walls crowding around to listen in shades of red, white and black. With voices that fit well together the musicians sing about old love, new love, a laughing universe, what it would be like to be a work of art, and how they're traveling around in search of feet; at one point they invite a friend to jam with them on the guitar, and she's in a trance, so happy to be up there playing and part of the music.
wresting
It's a song he once knew by heart; now he wrestles different passages out of the piano. Whenever he comes to a lacuna in his memory, he sits with fingers splayed across his forehead and stares with a puzzled frustration at the keys.
Out in the hall a French woman and a Russian woman speak in English, their voices bright and cordial. Soon after, a Greek woman speaks boisterously on the phone, sometimes in English and other times in her native tongue. In a different time and place, two men from Ireland harmonize together on a stage and banter between songs.
limpid
On a day when heat chokes the air and cars snarl along the road, I listen to limpid music; it spills and flows over all the other sounds - horns, brakes, birds, the stutter of machinery, conversation, the creak of trees in the wind.
loop
We could easily have taken the bus, but why not walk? Without walking we wouldn't have as much time to talk, or see the river at thirty minutes to midnight, or come across that sculpture with the words carved into it from several different languages, French and Greek included.
pluvial
There's a primordial fury to the rain; it mashes up the ground, crackles on the windows, and clots the air.
sundered
In the wake of the storm, trees stretch out leafy and shattered on walkways, cars, and roof corners. Branches lie in all angles on the sidewalks and sometimes dangle in the embrace of other branches that have remained aloft and intact.
tunefulness
Music in a long dark room lit with candles in glass, the illustrations on the walls crowding around to listen in shades of red, white and black. With voices that fit well together the musicians sing about old love, new love, a laughing universe, what it would be like to be a work of art, and how they're traveling around in search of feet; at one point they invite a friend to jam with them on the guitar, and she's in a trance, so happy to be up there playing and part of the music.
wresting
It's a song he once knew by heart; now he wrestles different passages out of the piano. Whenever he comes to a lacuna in his memory, he sits with fingers splayed across his forehead and stares with a puzzled frustration at the keys.
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