Arts & Letters

A Taylor Swift Fan Experiences the Rites of the Altar—But From a Distance

Taylor’s concerts serve as sacred places where fans come together and experience collective effervescence with fellow fans. One may not have any Swifties in their day-to-day life; thus, an occasion like this allows us to band together with those who also cling to Taylor’s lyrics. Every lyric, every melody is chanted with a fervor that surpasses mere admiration; it is a manifestation of devotion.

Little Egypt, Queens

A Duzan meal, Queens, New York. Photo by John Griswold     Sometimes you know the universe is at work when the metaphorical intersects with the personal. When my car suddenly shuddered and seemed to slip out of gear as I was trying to get over the Ed Koch Queensboro…

The Real Stanley Kowalski

From Poland to St. Louis with dreams, back to Europe to fight, back to St. Louis to drink, and make shoes, and die. He had no idea his name would live on—let alone make generations of playgoers wince and recoil. The blame for that can be divvied up between Tennessee’s father and one of his lovers.

Breaking the Flatness of the Present

Coenties Slip. Photo by John Griswold   The feeling comes over me at unexpected times—walking down a street of stone townhomes at dawn, lights in bay windows, stairs and gardens mounded with new snow. Sensing that the skyscraper-as-public-art was designed instead as a taunt and a cashing-in on…

The World Trade Center as the Future

In its planning phase after September 11, One World Trade was commonly called the Freedom Tower in response to the attacks. It was later named, more commercially but just as defiantly, for the old address of the North Tower, though it actually stands on the former site of 6 World Trade Center, also destroyed on 9-11.

Shoulders Back, Tummy Tucked…

Posture, “the position or bearing of the body,” carries information. My slump is insecure, preoccupied, habitual. Kneeling at work was an eagerness for communion with my colleagues. Much as I roll my eyes over liturgical dance (when it is self-conscious and silly) or arms that are stagily lifted to the heavens, something does feel different—wide open and vulnerable—when your arms are lifted high, not crossed over your bosom in self-defense.

What Fresh Hell Is This?

August 22 will mark the 120th anniversary of her birth—a good day, if you are a devotee, to mix a martini with Dorothy Parker American Gin (the owner of its New York Distillery exchanged Dorothy Parker vows with his bride at their wedding) or take a tour with Kevin Fitzpatrick, founder of the Dorothy Parker Society.

The Slow Joy of Guarding the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Bringley’s gift is to make the scholarly approachable—and delightful. In that decade at the Met, he developed a method. Rather than hunt for some extraordinary characteristic highlighted by the experts, he does nothing, just stares, spending those first minutes in a work of art’s presence by absorbing all he can without attaching any initial judgment, and he refuses to worry about what the art-world elite think.

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