Well, surely you’re all quaking in your Keds now that music file-sharing site OiNK is shut down, and maybe you’re wondering how you’ll possibly acquire and share albums with the same level of ease. Stream from MySpace? Perish the thought! Post on your public? Time-costly! Newbury comics? A fun voyage, for sure, but you might as well blow a kiss goodbye to any petty cash in your wallet as soon as you step in the door. Next best solution? Cheap concerts coming to you in the Boston area this November. They may not be as permanent as, say, torrent-quality mp3s, but at least you can always take flash photos of you and your friends in front of the stage to put on Facebook.
As the longest running play in American theater history, “Shear Madness” is an outrageously funny, interactive “whodunit” murder-mystery whose topical humor and shameless innuendos leave the audience roaring with laughter. Though the play is currently in its 27th year at the Charles Playhouse, each performance is kept fresh with improvisation, an abundance of references to current popular culture, and an excellent sense of humor.
The Darjeeling Limited” is the latest film by director and writer Wes Anderson. The movie chronicles the emotional and spiritual journey of three estranged brothers reuniting in India. (For a review of the film, see <i>http://www-tech.mit.edu/V127/N45/darjeeling.html</i>.)<i></i>
S<i>tephanie Gayle, who works at the MIT Media Lab, released her debut novel </i>My Summer of Southern Discomfort<i> this summer. The novel follows Natalie Goldberg, a New England lawyer who has moved to Macon, Ga., as she navigates a capital murder case and her own life in the sticky Southern summer. Recently, I met with Gayle to discuss her novel and her writing in general. The following is an excerpt from that conversation.</i>
The Darjeeling Limited,” the latest film by Wes Anderson, is a tour de force of overt symbolism. In the film, three brothers bring their emotional baggage (played by real luggage) to India (played by India) and go on an emotional journey (played by a train ride) to confront their past (played by their mother).
When I first heard about <i>365 days/365 plays</i>, Suzan-Lori Parks’ project to spend a year writing one play a day, I remember thinking it was a little, um, ambitious. But I also remember reading her play, <i>Topdog/Underdog</i>, which brought fresh ideas on racial identity, history’s everyday presence, masculinity as a weapon, and masculinity as a weakness. I suppose few people would be better equipped than Parks for such an undertaking.
After four years of mystery, the longest gap between Radiohead albums has finally come to a decisive close, following Wednesday’s release of new record <i>In Rainbows</i>.
Freshly made beer, mechanical contraptions, and hyperbole are three of my favorite things. On a sunny afternoon, you can find all of these things at a tour of the Sam Adam’s factory in Jamaica Plain. First off, logistics: it’s actually really easy to get there. Just take the Orange Line down to Stony Brook and follow the signs that say “beer this way.” Second, they only ask for a $2 donation for the tour, and the money goes to local charities. Yes, you get to be a Good Samaritan and tour a beer factory on the same day. Lastly, don’t go on Saturdays: it’s crowded beyond belief. Oh, and make sure you’re over 21.
If you’ve been avoiding any of Boston’s museums because you can’t tell a Renaissance painting from a Post-Impressionist, your excuse has just been smashed. “Walk This Way,” one of the Museum of Fine Art’s latest exhibits, is a parade of shoes, some new and some old. Everyone can understand shoes — we wear them, don’t we?
At the end of “The Devil Wears Prada,” fictional fashion magazine editor Miranda Priestley deems her super assistant Andie Sachs “her greatest disappointment.” Taken out of context, that comment fails to convey that Miranda actually has great respect for Andie’s humanity and character. Through the course of the film, she proves herself to be an extraordinary assistant but not in the way Miranda initially hoped.
Inman Square is about a mile from MIT and home to an eclectic mix of shops and restaurants, including the appropriately named All Star Sandwich Bar. This small restaurant on the corner or Cambridge St. and Prospect St. is crammed with tables, and when I went on a Saturday at noon, those tables were filled with a variety of people. From pajama-clad college students to a distinguished older man, everyone loves sandwiches.
Last week, the Cambridge University American Stage Tour returned to MIT to perform William Shakespeare’s <i>The Winter’s Tale</i>. CAST, comprised of Cambridge University students, tour the east coast of the United States during the month of September, performing a work of Shakespeare at a school, charity, community theater, and various universities. In addition, CAST holds workshops over the course of their trip. This year, CAST performed at MIT for three nights in Kresge Little Theatre.
I like coffee. A lot. It’s great. Now that the year’s started, I seem to be drinking a lot more of it. More than I have over the last two weeks, anyway. Based on what I have written so far, you might think this an article about coffee. Hell no. It’s an album review.
You’ve made it through your first exams, enjoyed the year’s first Suicide Prevention Day, and tooled to your heart’s content — or at least tooled to your professor’s heart’s content. But something’s missing. You crave a break from the weird and angular buildings that grace Massachusetts Ave. and its surrounding areas. You seek reprieve from the barely audible but somehow grating hum of your forever-in-use laptop. You desire dark venues with flashing lights and attractive strangers who share your tastes in music. Well, kiddo, I’ve got your prescription — get out of your dormitory and see some live music this October! Your brain will thank you for the break.