by Paul Bass | Mar 5, 2015 4:53 pm | Comments (1)
The John Slade Ely House, a not-for-profit art center tucked inside an Elizabethan home at 51 Trumbull Street and known for promoting the work of local artists, is shutting down after 54 years.
by Lucy Gellman | Mar 5, 2015 12:29 pm | Comments (1)
Dan Greene was deep in an amped-up daze, his guitar swinging wildly on his torso as he half-shouted, half-sang a refrain that had him getting lost in parking lots and looking up at the night sky. To his left, Rick Omonte grinned broadly, unleashing another twangy round of sound from his bass with the head-bopping, ear-to-ear smile of a oh-so-slightly devilish child. Ross Menze wailed away on the drums, his sticks flying from taut drum skin to cymbal, foot steady on the kick pedal. Krissy Battalene, also on guitar, moved forward, gesturing toward the others as she played.
by Brian Slattery | Mar 5, 2015 10:42 am
“When I was in Paris, they’d say, ‘and now from New York…’” said Jesse “Cheese” Hameen II, “and I’d jump up and say, ‘no, New York didn’t do this. New Haven did this.’”
by Mark Oppenheimer | Mar 4, 2015 3:46 pm
Before there was Engelbert Humperdinck, the super-lite English pop singer (sort of the Brits’ Wayne Newton), there was the man from whom he took his name, the great German opera composer Engelbert Humperdinck (1854–1921).
by Brian Slattery | Mar 4, 2015 12:30 pm
“Show him some love, Elm City!” Puma Simone admonished the crowd at Stella Blues. “He came all the way from Oklahoma City. That’s not close!”
by Lucy Gellman | Mar 4, 2015 12:28 pm
Watching the last of the birds flap around the gymnasium and a few remaining animals with long ears take a seat, their lobes still hanging low, Laura Adam prepared to welcome another wonder of the animal kingdom to the Davis Street School. In her best impression of Ogden Nash, she read:
by Lucy Gellman | Mar 3, 2015 2:27 pm | Comments (1)
Lifting a creamy, crumbling slice of Roquefort, Elm City Market’s Robin Williams had a love story to tell. It went like this: Once upon a time, in the dry, dark caves tucked away in the Languedoc-Roussillon region of France, a shepherd was nibbling his chunk of bread and ewe’s milk cheese and watching his sheep when a lady shepherd walked by.
by Donald Brown | Mar 3, 2015 2:25 pm
The Yale Cabaret’s most recent feature, The Untitled Project, proposed and directed by Ato Blankson-Wood and devised by the ensemble, is a meditation on being a black man in America. Using a battery of techniques, including straightforward address to the audience, a series of projections from historical and popular sources, interpretive dance, soliloquies, readings, skits, and even a send-up of blackface minstrelsy, the show might be likened to Hamlet’s strategy in trying to outfox the king: “by indirections find direction out.” The “indirections” are the many, many racist distortions of what it “means” to be black; the direction is finding a way to maintain purpose and dignity within a racist context.
by Donald Brown | Mar 3, 2015 12:40 pm
What is the value of doubt? In directing John Patrick Shanley’s Pulitzer- and Tony-winning play Doubt: A Parable, the latest offering from New Haven Theater Company, George Kulp finds that keeping uncertainty as part of the creative process is key to the dramatic possibilities of the play.
by Aliyya Swaby | Mar 3, 2015 8:26 am
The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So they brought Seuss to Strong School this cold, cold Monday.