Bruno’s Weekly was published in the Village for a couple of years starting in 1915. Muriel Ciolkowska was a French author and poet whose column, Passing Paris appeared from time to time. This one appeared in the October 7, 1916 issue, written by Muriel Ciolkowska I happened to read in some English newspaper the other
Bruno’s Weekly: Passing Paris Read More »
Liquid Years. The last day of last month marked 40 years since the release of Philip Glass’s Songs from Liquid Days. At the time, Glass was riding an unprecedented wave for a composer in the classical world. His soundtrack to the film Koyaanisqatsi four years earlier had put New York Minimalism before a much wider
Music: Wiggly Air with Kurt Read More »
In the old days, when I felt like hearing music without having to go through the Village Voice ads, I would sometimes just go to West 4th and Mercer, buy a ticket and walk into the Bottom Line. Allan Pepper and Stanley Snadowsky never seemed to book a bad act, at least as far as
TNC’s Croquet Player, a great night of theater, both entertaining and thought provoking Read More »
If you’ve been a close reader of this paper the past few months, you’ve probably figured out that we are big supporters of Layla Law-Gisiko. This has nothing at all to do with Derek and the Dominos, but rather her governing principles, especially in what is called land use. For some time I’ve been reading
Endorsement: Layla Law-Gisiko for City Council Read More »
In a storefront like any other on Avenue C, between a burger joint and a convenience store, sits the Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space (MORUS). Though many museum curators stay shut up in their offices when not hunting for new acquisitions or donors, the same cannot be said about Bill Di Paola, the museum’s founder.
Keeping it real on the Lower East Side, by J. Barnes Read More »
What to send? What to give? Where to go? Where to eat and drink? I only make suggestions. There are, of course, no hard and fast rules about any of this. This column is about the holiday season–Christmas and Hannukah (and Festivus?). If this offends you for any reason, your attitude offends me. So, we’re
HOLIDAZE IN THE BOHEMIAN CONTINUUM, by Stephen DiLauro Read More »
I used to be half of a musical act named Working Class Bohemians. The name choice was mine. I got it from a line in Judith Thurman’s excellent biography of the French writer Colette. Whenever I did a gig as part of a duet, it was as Working Class Bohemians. Often it would be with
BOHEMIAN VIBES IN THE DOWNTOWN CONTINUUM, by Stephen DiLauro Read More »
Let’s talk shampoo, a conversation that I think is long overdue. For years I bought mine from Arrojo, a local salon, in jumbo plastic containers. The products had none of the bad stuff—parabens, phthalates, synthetic fragrances—and I figured one big container uses less plastic than several smaller ones. Then the algorithm started to feed me
“A Sustainable Village” figures out zero waste, by Michele Herman Read More »
Spring 2025. I head over to the median strip of West Street at Christopher to participate in a small weekly “action” I’ve just learned about. I choose a hand-lettered sign from the organizer’s bag that reads HONK IF YOU LOVE DEMOCRACY. For the first time since elementary school, someone hands me a tambourine. Goldilocks-like, I’ve
Going where the protest suits my clothes, by Michele Herman Read More »
I used to subscribe to Texas Monthly magazine, back in the days before Texas became the land of migrant haters and backward schools, and one day it shows up in the mail and who’s on the cover but the son of a president that I was happy was not the president any more. The article
Column: We don’t need billionaires, by George Fiala Read More »
