Posts Tagged ‘Opera’
In which The Gay Recluse learns about drugs and manners. So today we attended a panel discussion on the issue of trademarks and pharmaceuticals. Naming a new drug is sort of like naming a band except it’s even harder! Because you can’t promise more than you can deliver — e.g., Cancercure — or minimize the […]
Filed under: Animals, Law, Memory, Science, Travel | 2 Comments
Tags: Anxiety, Cell Phones, Conferences, Cushions, Imagination, Manners, Opera, Pharmaceuticals, Trademarks
In which The Gay Recluse works in the garden. Time of Photographs: April 20, 2008, afternoon (ish) Today, a first in the garden! We heard an opera singer. She was doing scales in a nearby apartment. Her window was definitely open. She was loud! And she was struggling to hit her high notes. (She was […]
Filed under: Architecture, Memory, Opera, Resignation, Ruins, The Gay Recluse, The Spring Garden, Washington Heights | Leave a Comment
Tags: Frank Lloyd Wright, Garden Statues, Hinoki Cypress, Mezzo, Opera, Scottish Broom, Singing
In which The Gay Recluse ponders a sampling of recent search terms used to find the very pages you are now reading. Note: All search terms listed are in the exact form provided by WordPress.com, which is the host (at least for a while) of this blog. Hyperlinks to relevant posts included. Search: gay stereotypes […]
Filed under: Architecture, Gay, Infrastructure, Language, Memory, Opera, Search, The Times, Traffic, Washington Heights | Leave a Comment
Tags: Beatrice, Clementines, Cornell, Crack House, Drug Lords, Edmund White, English Elm, Frank Rich, Gay Stereotypes, Geraldine Ferraro, Opera, SUV, Theta Drug
At the opera last week, we ran into a friend who we were surprised to note had gained at least 500 pounds since we had last seen him. “You’ve gained weight,” we said, not wanting to ignore the obvious. “Are you in good health?” “More than good,” he nodded enthusiastically, and then began to explain. […]
Filed under: Capitalism, Drivel, Gay, History, Opera, Pessimism, The Times | Leave a Comment
Tags: Baudelaire, Cities, Dick Cavett, Modernity, New York Times, Obese, Opera, Spleen
Stark and imperial, during the day the white travertine facade of the Metropolitan Opera seems as inviting as a walk across a desert, but at night glows like a beacon to the modern, urban spirit in which it was conceived. The cloud-like apparitions of Chagall’s paintings hypnotize us and soften the disdain of the high roman arches through which we pass […]
Filed under: Drag Queens, Good Rock, Memory, Opera, Resignation, The Gay Recluse | Leave a Comment
Tags: Aida, Amneris, Chagall, Giuseppe Verdi, Lincoln Center, Luciana D'Intino, New York City, Opera, Rademes, The Metropolitan Opera
On Albus Dumbledore
Last night at the midtown bistro ______, we were pleased to find Des Esseintes at the bar, his thin hand clutched around a tumbler of amber-colored liquid. We asked about this, and he confirmed it was a single highland malt from the ____ distillery, which he had long professed to be the most burnished yet […]
Filed under: Drag Queens, Dream, Gay, Opera, Writers-British, Writers-French | Leave a Comment
Tags: Albus Dumbledore, Aristocracy, Opera, Paparazzi, Whiskey
I sat down in Terminal C next to an older woman, who in a long black dress and ostrich-feather hat appeared oddly elegant among all the business suits. “I hope it’s not too crowded,” I remarked in a somewhat stilted attempt to engage this mysterious woman in conversation, as if we were both waiting to […]
Filed under: Dream, Gay, Memory, Opera, Travel | Leave a Comment
Tags: LGA, Liebestod, Opera, Spleen, Tristan and Isolde, Wagner
The Gay Recluse 