100 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(10/21/04 5:00am)
The name of the artist widely accepted as the greatest Dutch master, Rembrandt van Rijn, is ubiquitous mostly in reference to shadowy portraits of the Dutch nobility and to his genius with chiaroscuro in larger paintings like The Night Watch. Less attention is paid to his copper-plate etchings, which are both brilliant displays of his prowess and windows of insight into his life and career. "Rembrandt at Homewood," a collection of 22 matted and nine framed prints and a few works by Rembrandt's apprentices, goes on display starting this Thursday at the F. Ross Jones Building at the Mattin Center.
(09/23/04 5:00am)
Murry Hammond plays bass, sings and writes songs for Dallas-based alt-country band the Old 97's. Since 1994, the band has been setting twangy, bar-room rock songs with gritty guitars and punk inflections to rockabilly and Texas swing beats. Over their past two albums, however, their sound has become increasingly poppy, and the band recently took a two-year hiatus to work on solo projects and to raise families. The release of their sixth studio album, Drag It Up, marks a return to their earlier, more country-ish roots, and points to the band's moving in entirely new directions. In preparation for the band's upcoming Baltimore-area show, the News-Letter talked to Hammond about music, songwriting, railroad history, and growing up.
(09/23/04 5:00am)
Think Rive Gauche between the wars, or Prague towards the end of the 19th century. Think of any place where the frills that adorn an upper-class arts or intellectual community have been clipped, and the most important thinkers and artists of the era have given up the life of the salon for a seedier existence, where the creative take inspiration from the poor, and the ethos is one of abjection rather than refinement. Think of any of these places, and the picture will look at least a little bit like what is going on in Baltimore today, where a community of avant-garde thinkers and performers based around experimental music and sound is gaining momentum.
(09/09/04 5:00am)
It's usually pretty obnoxious when older folks complain about how things were much better back in the day, right? Who wants to sit around in some velour-upholstered living room, with Cab Calloway on the gramaphone, listening to Grandpa babble about "old-fashioned values"? No one.
(09/02/04 5:00am)
I remember move-in day like it was yesterday. The sun was shining, President Brody was in his extreme inline-skates, grinding along the railing outside Terrace. Or wait -- was it his BMX bike? Anyway, one thing I do remember was my freshman roommate. How could I forget him? He was tall, gangly, smelled like cheese. He shook my hand, clapped me on the back, and so we began a fun-filled year of hunting mice, playing football on the quad and doing economics problem sets.
(09/02/04 5:00am)
Last year I had a dilemma. I was sitting in my ergonomic Ikea chair, my collar popped, you know, just sort of watching SportsCenter on the plasma and having a few brews, and I realized, I had a dilemma.
(09/02/04 5:00am)
The Johns Hopkins News-Letter
(04/29/04 5:00am)
All across the country, the summer opens the doors for some of the best music and arts festivals in the world. Some are in random places and others are more about roughing it than living in luxury, but they are all worth the drive. Here are a few of note:
(04/29/04 5:00am)
It's been a busy three years for Wilco. The release of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which was many critics' choice for the best album of 2001, was delayed several months by the refusal of Wilco's then-label Reprise to release the record for fear of low sales. Their record label troubles coincided with a personnel shuffle that included lead singer Jeff Tweedy's firing of drummer Ken Coomer and multi-instrumentalist/engineer Jay Bennet.
(04/29/04 5:00am)
Once a year in Baltimore, around this season, there is a race that takes its participants on an eight-hour trek over the concrete streets of downtown, into the salt waters of the Chesapeake Bay, and through the treacherous mud and sand pits of Patterson Park. The racers brave rain, cold, and the threat of sinking and drowning as they pilot human-powered amphibious vehicles through every terrain this city has to offer. Sounds kind of hard-core, right? Kind of like the Iron Man? It is, except that the participants in this race are conceptual artists, and most of them are dressed like elephants, or mice, or birds. Or cocktail shrimp.
(04/22/04 5:00am)
It seems like the hottest thing underground hip-hop artists can do these days is to successfully capitalize on the musics that they see as their roots: old-school, funk and jazz. Deejay Madlib's Shades of Blue remixed some of the bast jazz standards in the Blue Note records catalog, and Jurassic 5 has landed multiple national tours rocking old-school, backpacker beats and pieces. But West Coast-based emcee Lyrics Born has outdone them all on his new album, Later That Day..., a head-bobbing pastiche of soul melodies, funky rhythms and tightly-woven lyrical lines.
(04/22/04 5:00am)
Going to see just any play is quite a different experience from going to see a David Mamet play. You see, with other playwrights, it's hard to tell what to expect, but with Mamet, the formula is always the same: clipped, fast, and oft-interrupted dialogue, filled with "but"s and "wait"s and incomplete lines, sparse sets, and loathsome, infuriating characters.
(04/15/04 5:00am)
Hey you! D'you remember me? I used to sit next to you at school. We indulged in all the extra-curricular activites -- we weren't particularly cool. Monday cycling, Tuesday gymnastics, dancing on a Friday night. I got bridge club on Wednesday, archery on Thursday, dancing on a Friday night. Hey you! Could you ever fall for me the way I fell for you? And do you dwell upon the thoughts that I occupy, or do you give yourself things to do?
(04/15/04 5:00am)
After circulating a few demo tapes around South Florida, Sam Beam, who is known on stage as Iron & Wine, caught the attention of Sub Pop records, which requested some material for submission. Beam responded by mailing them two full-length albums. He didn't enter a studio for Sub Pop until more than a year after signing with the label.
(04/08/04 5:00am)
Brooklyn-based trio TV On The Radio are a good example of what can happen when you stick a bunch of art school students in loft apartments in the same neighborhood. The ideas get passed around faster than the drugs do. People experiment and work hard. Sometimes you end up with something good, like Oneida or The Victoria Lucas. Other times, it's just crap, like Blonde Redhead or the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
(03/31/04 5:00am)
It's about 11:30 p.m., and Tim Baier and I have probably both had about enough to drink. I'm sitting with the Tim, the bassist in the Baltimore "homegrown" indie rock trio Slow Jets, at the black counterop of the Ottobar, trying to figure out how a guy can be as fiercely passionate about his music as he is but at the same time so hopelessly apathetic. He just gave me a tirade--his eyes closed, hand on his Yuengling and his forehead bobbing up and down, pointed towards the bar--about how it's a shame that the music industry "used to be about quality" but isn't anymore. Then he said, "We don't care too much about getting famous. I've long since given up trying to do anything."
(03/31/04 5:00am)
If the Sleepy Jackson was the only band from Down Under that anyone from America knew, imagine what a picture we would get of that country! The skies would be purple, time would slow down and speed up erratically and mescalin would be the drug of choice for all Australians at all times.
(03/25/04 5:00am)
The debut album from wayward bluegrass buskers Old Crow Medicine Show is the rebirth of irreverent, old-time country -- or in other words, it's a dose of the good stuff. The 11 tracks of OCMS sound like the result of five bums hatching a hair-brained moneymaking scheme to have a country band, selling some homemade applejack to pay for a tour van, and in the process, realizing that they're pretty damn good. All have great voices, a refreshing taste for rough-edged jug band arrangements, a knack for tight, heart-twinging harmonies and the capacity for smart song-writing. That they can't play their instruments 100 percent in tune or with the raw chops of most Nashville bands is sort of beside the point.
(03/25/04 5:00am)
Drug addiction is a funny thing. Or a tiresome, annoying clich??, depending on how you look at it. Two recent books, Walter Yetnikoff's autobiograpy Howling at the Moon, co-written by David Ritz, and last year's best-selling novel A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, tackle the authors' out-of-control, errant, drug and booze-filled pasts, both from the vantage of a cleaned-up or an in-the-process-of-cleaning-up reformer. In the case of Yetnikoff, it's hard not to want to go out and have a drink (and maybe an eightball) with the maniacal record exec himself--I mean, the only reason he quit was because his liver was giving out--after reading the book. But as for Frey, it's hard to listen to another word of his after about ten pages, and in the end, all you've got on your hands is god-awful boring Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
(03/11/04 5:00am)
Sometimes you can really tell when a band is a product of a scene. Camera Obscura is so much of a knock-off of Belle and Sebastian's delicate Glasgow chamber-pop that it's almost funny. And it would be, if not for the crystalline sweetness of Tracyanne Campbell's voice, which charms your socks off halfway through the first track of Underachievers Please Try Harder.