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Maureen Mullarkey: Studio Matters

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Mother’s Day Looms

Here it comes. Truth to tell, I do not like Mother’s Day. It is a mawkish, manufactured holiday—a counterfeit tradition like Kwanza. buy fildena online https://latinohealthaccess.org/wp-content/themes/twentyfourteen/inc/php/fildena.html no prescription But now that it is upon us, women might as well make the most of it.buy vardenafil online https://www.mobleymd.com/wp-content/languages/new/vardenafil.html no prescription This is the day to milk what remains of filial guilt for all it is worth. Lay it on thick, sisters. Get the jump on neglectful, inattentive offspring.buy levitra online https://www.mobleymd.com/wp-content/languages/new/levitra.html no prescription Do not wait for your begets to send the usual Mother’s Day boilerplate from the greeting card industry. Continue Reading

Nikos Salingaros: Resilient Architecture

You only need a theory if you don’t know how to do something. Leon Krier   We call the New Urbanism originated in the conversion of Leon Krier, architect and urban planner, from modernism to classicism. A blunt critic of vertical sprawl, he once declared “modernist architecture and town planning is inimical to human beings . . . based on the Darwinian concept that evolution is open ended, that there must always be something new and better.” Nikos Salingaros, architect and urban theorist, writes in sympathy with Krier’s appraisal of the ravages of modernist architecture. Continue Reading

Candy Floss & Camp

BBC News Magazine’ s Jon Kelly discusses Behind the Candelabra , a current movie about Liberace’s six year affair with a much younger man. Throughout his life , the entertainer strained to maintain the fiction that he was heterosexual:
Most famously, he sued the Daily Mirror over an innuendo-laden article by William Connor, who wrote under the pen-name Cassandra, which described the musician as “the pinnacle of masculine, feminine, and neuter . . . a deadly, winking, sniggering, snuggling, chromium-plated, scent-impregnated, luminous, quivering, giggling, fruit-flavoured, mincing, ice-covered heap of mother love”.
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In the End, Perhaps, Lightness of Heart

I came to Hans Sedlmayr’s Art in Crisis, first published in 1948 , through Roger Kimball’s essay in which he termed the text a “blistering polemic.” I confess a weakness for blistering polemics. Nothing warms the heart faster in these imperiously nonjudgmental days. Morevover, Sedlmayr’s cultural pessimism conforms more convincingly to fallen man and his ever-falling times than our current dalliance with the saving powers of beauty. For a concise bio of Sedlmayr go directly to the Dictionary of Art Historians. Continue Reading

“I Don’t Do Nice”

In 2008, the Pontifical Council for Culture invited to the Vatican five hundred of its favorite international brands in the arts. Cardinal Ravasi drew up the guest list and emceed the program. Pope Benedict was enlisted, like the speaker at a communion breakfast, to address the gathering. Among the trademarked “custodians of beauty” flattered by the summons was Zaha Hadid, London-based, Iraqi-born starchitect. She is as much a phenomenon as an architect, winning conspicuous commissions all over the globe. Her stated intention is to “rewrite the script for architecture.” Continue Reading
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