While prints made from woodcuts and engravings may not offer the immediate thrill of gigantic oil paintings, they do display curious combinations of grotesquerie and piety and, to the patient observer, a fascinating glimpse into the Reformation moment.
The show’s title makes it sound like one of those silly British slapstick comedies, but no. I would describe it as an historical drama with a loving heart. It has the same historical-immersion appeal as Mad Men, except with wholesome values, lots of babies, and nuns.
This past Monday, I peered into the humming center of the universe. I’m talking about Facebook headquarters in Menlo Park, California.
Project: make a macramé plant hanger.
Burning questions: Could I do it? And does crafting relieve anxiety?
But at present I am not losing any sleep over Penguin or Joker or Loki. I’m losing sleep over pressing problems right here in the ol’ real world. So: what if we had superheroes aimed a little more directly at day-to-day, same-size-as-life troubles?
Sumac and scrubby grass, dense-leaved oaks and maples, jumbles of every possible green. Blue spruce, Douglas fir, white pines, red pines, the astonishing symmetry of jack pine trunks in a sudden stand. Dead trees like skeletons rising from swamps. Everything stubby and scruffy and sassafrassy.
Played by the splendid Gal Gadot, this Wonder Woman is fit, fleet, and fabulous. From a movie-making point of view, though, that was the easy part. What sets this movie apart in its genre is a fresh, thoughtful character arc, one that perhaps only a female superhero tale could sustain.
Meanwhile, Harvard holds their commencement exercises outdoors, rain or shine. This year, there was no shine. So 32,000 damp people negotiated regalia, umbrellas, and uncomfortable folding chairs. My husband and I, in a stroke of boldness and foresight, figured out how to watch via livestream in the comfort of one of the residence houses. Perfect.
With everything going on in the news this week, we might as well come right out and discuss what we’re all thinking about anyway: the apocalypse.
The first issue arrived in November. I remember being so excited, I brought it along to catechism class on a Wednesday afternoon. How I gazed at the beautiful older girl on the cover—perfect teeth, clear skin, gorgeous late-70s hair. I opened to the first page and… behold, the mystery.