A few days before Gregory Peck’s death, his characterization of Atticus Finch was recognized by the American Film Institute as having created the “greatest hero” in the history of American film. That such a title, however subjective it may be, could be bestowed on a protagonist who threw no punches, rode no galloping horses, and in fact, lost his court fight to save an innocent man, is yet one more indication of Peck’s skill as an actor. In an industry that glorifies violence, and celebrates the culture of shoot-first-ask-questions-later, Peck managed to make a hero of a vulnerable pacifist. It was a role that suited him well.
Tag: 06.15.03
Architects In Crisis
Few people think of architecture as a job requiring much in the way of crisis management skills. But a recent symposium in Boston examined the way that architects and engineers have handled some of the most devastating architectural crises in recent decades. From a collapsed hotel balcony in Kansas City, to a Manhattan skyscraper that could have toppled in a high wind, the all-too-human reactions to tragedies of human error changed the way many in the architectural trade view their jobs.
Kids’ Best Book
UK children have voted Anthony Horowitz’s “Skeleton Key” as the best children’s book of the year in the Red House Award. The award is the only publishing prize voted on by kids. “Around 25,000 children from all over the UK took part in judging this year through book groups organised by the Federation of Children’s Book Groups and via the award’s website. Previous winners of the award, now in its 23rd year, include Quentin Blake, Roald Dahl and JK Rowling.”
Your (Literary) Reputation Recedes You
Some writers manage to attain reputations that outlive them. “But most of the time, death for poets is what it is for the rest of us – the beginning of that slow, inexorable process of being forgotten. Take the case of Robert Lowell. When he died, in 1977, Lowell was by far the most famous American poet of his era. The only figure of comparable renown was Allen Ginsberg, but Ginsberg was never embraced by the critics the way Lowell was; with his ohm-ing and his finger cymbals, Ginsberg had become a kind of self-caricature. Lowell was cool, but he was also dignified, and his reputation seemed secure and indelible. Within a couple of decades, though, he had all but fallen off the map.”
Harry’s Too Heavy
In Scotland, where the new Harry Potter book will hit shelves on Saturday, the postal service is concerned about the health of its carriers, who will be expected to deliver thousands of the books preordered from online booksellers in a single day. At issue is the unusual size of the fifth Potter tome – the UK edition runs 768 pages, and weighs in at a full kilogram. So what’s the solution? The Royal Mail may be forced to dispatch a special fleet of vans just to deliver Harry.
NY Philharmonic’s Carnegie Gambit: Not Good For America
Mark Swed writes that while the New York Philharmonic’s move from Lincoln Center to Carnegie Hall might make financial sense for the orchestra, it isn’t necessarily good for New York music or for musicians elsewhere in America. “What is good for business isn’t necessarily good for art, the community or the country. This is a dire move, and its ramifications will be felt throughout America. At the heart of it are two important questions: Whom does an orchestra, or any major arts institution, serve? And what is its social responsibility?”
Mourning Carnegie Hall’s New Role
The New York Philharmonic’s move to Carnegie Hall is bad for music in New York. “The most jarring thing about this agreement is that the Philharmonic and Carnegie are merging into a single entity. Think about it. Effectively there will be no more Carnegie Hall: It will simply be the Philharmonic’s hall, which they’ll let others use from time to time. The 130 nights a year the Philharmonic will “cannibalize” in its new home will be bad news for recitalists, string quartets, popular musicians and visiting orchestras.”
Face To Face With Impressionism In The Round
J. Seward Johnson Jr. makes three-dimensional sculptural versions of famous Impressionist paintings. “The experience sounds risible, more the stuff of amusement parks than sculpture parks or museums. But there’s an uncanny quality to seeing a familiar painting expanded into real space, and being able to walk through the picture plane is positively weird. It heightens the physicality of the motifs in the composition and thereby underlines the artifice and skill that went into transforming them into a painting. Also, I have to confess, wandering around in the three-dimensional paintings is really a lot of fun. And with no restrictions on photographing or touching the works, who can doubt the show is going to be a riot for grown-ups and an absolute paradise for children?”