Review – Vespertine
Artist: Björk
Review – Danse Macabre
Artist: The Faint
Review – Eternal
Artist: The Isley Brothers
Review – Vespertine
Artist: Björk
Review – Danse Macabre
Artist: The Faint
Vietnam epic still packs visceral punch
Movie: Apocalypse Now Redux
Family tradition
I’m an appetizer fanatic. Gimme a big assortment of little dishes and I am happy. That’s why Korean, Indian and Chinese food pleases me so much. Now, with the opening of Cedar’s Restaurant, I can add Lebanese to that list. In a break from the Corporate Fooding of the Sand Lake Road corridor through the…
Review – Eternal
Artist: The Isley Brothers
Review – Vespertine
Artist: Björk
Review – Danse Macabre
Artist: The Faint
Vietnam epic still packs visceral punch
Movie: Apocalypse Now Redux
Review – Eternal
Artist: The Isley Brothers
Fear factor
Ernest Hemingway said about writing that the first step in the process is to defrost the refrigerator. I’ve defrosted the metaphorical fridge 800 times this week, avoiding the blank screen. After all, what can I tell you that you don’t know? What emotions could I tap into that haven’t been tapped out? Our hearts all…
What we saw, what we felt, what we fear
Debris from the tandem assaults on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on Sept. 11 fell well beyond the distance the wind carried it, and continues to fall still. The response has been a surge of nationalism, the promise of retribution — war, specifically — and a small but rising number of assaults against…
Desperate measures
No subject could be more taboo in this time of crisis — be that the “Attack on America,” “America Under Attack” or “America Unites,” depending on your network affiliation — than humor itself (although isn’t it strange how much we’re seeing Colin Powell laugh?). Even my funniest friends, a motley crew of hairdressers and bartenders…
The show must grow on
Actor Bethany Halliday filed a lawsuit against the British opera company D’Oyly Carte because it allegedly revoked an offer it had made to her to play a blushing teen-age virgin in “The Pirates of Penzance.” Attorneys for D’Oyly Carte said that whatever interest the company once had in Halliday no longer existed because she showed…
Back to the drawing boards
At ground zero in New York City, volunteers continue to sift through the rubble, trying to make sense of a senseless act. Three thousand miles away, at the epicenter of America’s popular culture, people are sifting through rubble too. Hollywood hotshots are realizing that, in the wake of last week’s tragedy, many of the seemingly…
Welcome to the banner years
Just under two years ago, Orlando Weekly reported that the colorful banners of sideshow artist Johnny Meah were being sold in bootleg form at Amazon.com, without their creator’s knowledge or permission. It was a kick-in-the-pants reward for Meah’s 40-odd years of service as a painter and performer in the traveling-entertainment field, and his emergence as…
Where eagles fly
The chickens have come home to roost. But these birds had teeth. And with them, they bit deep into the American psyche. They had long silver wing spans that sliced through our prideful postures and woke us from our cozy somnolence. And they had claws that plucked us, dazed and bleeding, out of our myopic…
Fall vintages are dropping
Restaurants aren’t the only new additions to Plaza Venezia on Sand Lake Road. Along with a bakery for dogs, there’s Gran Cru (407-226-3322), the new kid on the wine block. According to manager David Langlais, there are some fairly novel vintages that are the darlings of the fall wine set. Norman Kiken (pronounced “KICK-en”) produces…
Get Spooky
Paul Miller, a.k.a. DJ Spooky that Subliminal Kid, is an unstoppable force: a world-renowned composer, writer, DJ and conceptual artist who comfortably hops between different mediums. The 31-year-old’s discography — which includes countless major-label releases, remixes, film scores and studio and live experiments — reads like an electronic producer’s wonderland. Based in New York City,…
How ya gonna keep ’em down on the farm â?¦
Perhaps one day, when the current generation of “No Depression” readers is a little closer to its dotage, some entrepreneurial group will start up an alt-country version of Branson, Mo. They could fix up a few neat old buildings in some town somewhere and invite almost-forgotten ex-insurgent singers and pickers to leave their workaday lives…
