And when reality became suffocating, he looked away, a gesture that, if impactless, is at least tender.
The fluorescent lights of the harbor illuminated lonely gantry cranes in the distance. I suddenly felt like I was one of them.
She dances gently, then it gets more and more violent. By the end she is jumping up and down, throwing herself in all directions.
The show serves as a reminder of the close relationship between artistic practice and technological advancement.
Film idea: A man stops speaking, because he doesn’t know what he really wants to say and who he wants to say it to. After twenty years he breaks the silence (Why now?).
I tried to meditate by imagining myself as a compact cassette.
Philip A.N. Chowdry ’19 has produced a number of artworks that deal with current political issues, especially the presidency of Donald Trump. His recent work “The Melania,” which was on display at The Harvard Student Art Show this year, reflects the media’s portrayal of Melania Trump, and “Our Vendetta,” an ongoing series, takes the form of protest posters and have been distributed around Harvard Square. The Crimson sat down with him to discuss his inspirations and working process.
Jean-Michel Billard, better known by his Frodo Baggins-inspired penname Jean-Michel Frodon, started his career as a journalist and film critic in France in the early ’80s. Between 2003 and 2009, he was the chief editor of “Cahiers du Cinema,” the oldest film magazine in publication and one of the most influential ones in the world.
Interview with a student enrolled in Harvard's new Master in Design Engineering degree program jointly hosted by Graduate School of Design (GSD) and John A. Paulson School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS).
Just as rock and roll would be lackluster without the topless teens at music festivals, “Trainspotting” owes its charm largely to the cult surrounding it. For the believers, the film is some sort of 90s proletarian manifesto thrown into the face of a stupid century: Either you dig it and dance along to “Lust for Life,” or you are spoiled bourgeois scum and to hell with your phony attitude and your dental insurance. It is counterculture at its most triumphant, and the protagonists, who are too fast to live and too young to die, are fin-de-siècle Hamlets.
The film starts with murmurs, and ends with the statement “Maybe nothing was said.” In between, we see a young director named Edgar auditioning actors of all age groups, from all social classes, for an ambitious—eventually failed—film project about love.
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