Do you enjoy the sleek look of your new iPhone? You can thank Steve Jobs for taking a calligraphy class at Reed College. Have you or your kids scribbled on a pair of Vans sneakers? Vans' President Kevin Bailey credits the brand's creativity with the arts education many of his employees have taken.
Gross has a sharp, satirical sense of who "we" are now, and Future Tense lays out his tainted vision with big-screen LCD clarity: he sees a tsunami of consumer culture that is drowning our collective soul in a sickly-sweet flood of lattes and Double Gulps.
Tears, flowers and an outpouring of love accompanied Wendy Whelan's farewell performance at the New York City Ballet on Saturday, October 18. Many of us would call the NYCB the greatest ballet company in the world, and, so, we collectively mourn the loss of its reining queen.
Housed in the iconic Temple Emanu-El Synagogue on Manhattan's Upper East Side, the museum plays home to a priceless permanent collection of Judaica, and yearly rotating temporary exhibits.
With the Gaitonde exhibit, the Guggenheim gently politicizes the public's knowledge of Modernist painting with the embrace of an artist whose generation ushered in the age by which the colonized peoples of the world threw off their colonizers.
Blake Little's work -- much like Blake Little the man -- doesn't need to make a lot of noise to be noticed. At their best, Little's portraits capture the precise moment the well-known subject is communicating a hushed inner message.
Canadian born photographer Joey L. has been shooting eye-catching portraits, campaigns and billboards of some of the most recognizable people of our time. This Halloween will mark the 25-year-old photographer's fourth anniversary of his Halloween in Brooklyn series.
A wrecking ball is set to fly through Little Pete's. Progress commands that a 300-room hotel must take the place of the parking ramp at 219 South 17th Street in whose corner nestles one of Center City Philadelphia's treasures.
The more I travel the world the more I learn how different peoples share common habits that weave together or cultivating their common way of life. What I believe we are witnessing in our time is the death of culture, the end of investing and taking responsibility in and for our surroundings.
This week we get the revivals of Tom Stoppard's somewhat autobiographical The Real Thing (1982), at the American Airlines Theatre, and Terrence McNally's Lips Together, Teeth Apart (1991), at Second Stage's Tony Kiser Theatre.
This percussion-rich music and their accompanying partner dances are a source of some seriously sweaty cardio, perma grins (except for the all too serious rico suave's out there) and a dynamic cross-cultural celebration.
Two new dramas offer stark and disturbing depictions of specific flavors of hell on earth that crush the soul and, on occasion, tear the body to shreds. Whether above ground or below, whether the battle is fought with guns and bombs or fear and manipulation, there are no winners.
Two probing views of obsessive love spelled success for the marriage of inconvenience between Purcell's Dido and Aeneas and Bartók's Bluebeard's Castle. Their double-bill opening Saturday at the Chandler Pavilion marked the LA Opera's second collaboration with wave-making Australian stage director Barrie Kosky.
"What's more offensive, a little girl saying f*ck or the f*ing sexist way society treats girls and women?" ask a 6-year-old in a pink taffeta princess dress and tiara in a new video making the rounds on Facebook.
The Brooklyn Museum prides itself on being in touch with the borough's wide-ranging neighborhoods. Beyond offering its permanent collection, the museum has shown a commitment to being an active part of the community.
Timing is everything and it's probably no coincidence that we scheduled our interview right before Halloween, which has its centuries-old roots in Gaelic and Celtic regions, like Scotland where we meet.
In promoting his new film adaptation of Private Peaceful, a book by War Horse author Michael Morpugo looks back at a way of life that's long gone with only the slightest hint of sentiment.