3,979 miles from Cannes, 4,147 from Venice and 3,000 from Los Angeles, a diverse international crowd gathered at the Brooklyn Film Festival (now in its 18th year) to celebrate innovative storytelling and filmmaking in the age of the indie.
When I think of a lake, I imagine its stillness and peace. Calm looms over a clear surface without tides. No matter if the wind shouts or murmurs, the water barely stirs. It's settled, unperturbed. It craves nothing but silence.
While on a tapas crawl the other week, I was brought back to San Sebastian where I hopped from bar to bar taking in a glass of wine, delicious bites called pintxos and great company -- an essential part of the Basque experience.
Memorial Day weekend is in full swing and Brooklyn has you covered if you are looking to be around some beautiful black culture. If you still don't have any plans check out some of these events where the melanin will definitely be on fleek.
This Ghosts is simply too dark and true, but one almost wanted The Wooster Group, whose signature style lies in freeing language from narrative, to intervene. "The Sun, the Sun" are the famous last lines.
I've always been rather late to the party, and although I'd had my share of evenings at BAM and the wonderful concerts at Bargemusic, it wasn't until recently that I discovered the depth of serious music, opera and theater happening throughout the borough.
In the case of Klinghoffer, as in the case of Cruising, the bottom lines for me are simple. I am concerned about some of the rhetoric and tactics of some gay radicals, but I am a lot more concerned about homophobia.
One of Gertrude Stein's most famous lines is, "there is no there there." Theatre de la Ville's production Pirandello's Six Characters in Search of an Author directed by Emmanuel Demarcy-Mota and recently played at BAM visualizes Stein's phenomenology as Plato's Allegory of the Cave.
At the time of it's original release in l974 Ingmar Bergman's Scenes From a Marriage was the perfect antidote to the wave of post-modernism which hovered like a horrible tsunami, threatening to place the iteration of most emotional states in quotes.
I wish my biology professors at high school could have been as brilliant, kinky and comical as Isabella Rossellini when explaining the richness of the reproductive and sexual habits of the animal kingdom. Perhaps today I would be a biologist.
In the past week, Iran has been struck by two earthquakes that have killed dozens of people and leveled hundreds of homes. And because of the political standoff with Iran's government, Americans are largely unable to provide any help.
On stage in front of me is a man holding a golden apple. His feet are resting in a circle of rubber particles resembling a stone circle. His voice is clear, his body is grounded, and he tells a story with this apple as his only prop.
Bogota is both a confounding and beautiful city. Nestled below the Andes mountains, the expansive developing metropolis doesn't reveal its charms easily, but rather holds them close as tightly guarded secrets.