Letter from Paris: Fois Gras Galore!
I have been to
Hell and back
And let me tell you
It was wonderful . . .
Letter from Paris: Striking Out in Paris
We arrived in November to unseasonable cold –– and an impending transit strike. The strike made travel difficult, but the real problem was the damned wheelchair kept breaking down. Nonetheless . . .
How Music Was Invented
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, before the time of recorded history, even before prerecorded history, and long before the birth of music, before anyone knew anything about music, there lived a caveman named Thor . . .
Remembering Max!
“Max!”
That was the first word Charlie Parker ever said to me. . .
Letter from Paris: Politics, Art & Food
The loss of Segolene Royal might have dampened the spirits of a lesser man, but Don manages to find solace in art and food . . .
Kartemquin at 40
You’d think, after The MacArthur Foundation gave Kartemquin a $500,000 media arts grant last week, they'd fix that doorbell. But I doubt it. They have bigger fish to fry.. . .
Oh, My Bach!
When I’m dead and buried, they can carve whatever they want on my tombstone. But the epitaph that would probably make me happiest is Pretty Good Piano Player. . .
Letter from Paris: One Glorious November
What a joy to arrive here two days after that even more joyous election in November to find unanimous smiles and congratulations . . .
A Letter from Paris
Let us speak of Bonnard, Monet, Ingres, Rousseau and Magritte, with a side trip to see the cows and, of course, many wonderful meals with friends. . .
French Film, Wheelchairs, Art & Food
The French, as a nation, were probably the first to view cinema as art. And now there’s a most wonderful national cinematheque and film museum in an extraordinary new setting, whose initial exhibition is simply brilliant. . . .
Judging Apple Pies
As anyone within phone distance of my house knows, my wife Lucy is currently involved in staging a Bucktown Apple Pie Contest to benefit our favorite charity, Holstein Park. . . .
The Last IPA Art Show
It has been almost five years since we closed the doors on that little experiment in television we called Independent Programming Associates. But we remember fondly the people, the place and especially the art pieces that seemed to appear out of nowhere on its walls. . .
An American in Paris
A happy convergence here in the final week of the month Count Basie celebrated so joyously. . .
Chocolate Treats
I am a chocoholic. In the run up to Christmas, there is no worse time to be a chocoholic. Others shop at the malls, send cards, decorate trees; but my spirit manifests itself in baked goods . . .
Mom's Potato Salad
H.D. Motyl remembers his mother's potato salad. But does she remember him?
A Letter from Paris
A drizzly spring in Paris is no bar to good friends, good photography, good food or the musings of our intrepid correspondent.
PAWS: A Man, A Boy and A Dog
Not so long ago in a land far from Hollywood, Bill Glader and his son set out to make a movie . . . about their dog.
Uneven Sidewalks
In the uneven shoveling of our sidewalks, we discover little things about our neighbors, and ourselves, that stay with us throughout the year . . .
October in Paris
Don Rose on the weather, the war, the food, the art, the countryside and other things that make Paris special in October. . .
Hector and Joe
The story of my block can be told in two barbershops, Hector's and Joe's. If you like a good barbershop story.
My Rocks
I have in my possession, as I suspect you do, a collection of rocks I've acquired in my travels around the world. I have iron ore from Iron Mountain, sand from Saudi Arabia, lava from Hawaii, and a piece of granite I found on a walk... what possesses us to collect rocks? And how do we select them?
