David Freedlander is a veteran New York City-based journalist. He writes long-form features about politics and the arts, people and ideas, and has appeared in New York Magazine, Bloomberg, Rolling Stone, ArtNews, The Daily Beast, Newsweek and a host of other publications.
All in Criticism
They flirt, they fight, they make silly jokes, they snort coke and dance and drink and dance and sing and make music using serving tongs as castanets”
It is ultimately a story of how ambitious and privileged people comport themselves to the new realities of power; how evil comes tiptoeing in upon those who would prefer to not pay attention; and how brutality begins, and can thus only end, in the home.
A new show at the New York Historical Society is less about two men who barely knew each other, than it is the story of the civil rights movement in America.
Music geekdom is a terrible affliction. You have to mostly suffer in private, since who among your friends and loved ones could ever understand that the original Miles Davis Quintet isn’t jazz so much as pure gold distilled into the form of sound, or that the Chicago post-rock scene in the late 1990s rivaled the grunge scene in Seattle in the early ’90s for its brilliance and depth or that no, you can’t go out tonight, you have to go home and listen to the first Faces album on repeat.
The Vietnam War remains the eternal American scar. A New York Historical Society exhibition combines the political and personal to build an affecting portrait of the conflict.
From graphic evocations of the battlefield to meditations on patriotism and the purpose of war, a new exhibition shows how American artists captured the scale and meaning of WWI.
The wars that are ripping the culture apart around the world really come down to a single question: was life a little bit better not so long ago, or not?
In Zayd Dohrn’s play ‘The Profane,’ a romance brings conservative and liberal Muslim beliefs into emotional opposition.
‘The Hairy Ape’, as staged in the 55,000 square foot space of NYC’s Park Avenue Armory, is a work of art: a painting, or a puppet show perhaps. You don’t see it, so much as sink into it.
