Word: warriors
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Western world tends to think of the Arab as a falcon-eyed warrior on a white horse. That Arab is still around, but he is far less numerous than the disease-ridden wretches who lie in the hot streets, too weak, sick and purposeless to roll over into the shade...
...announcement by the tufftular head of apathy, known to millions as the Sleepy Warrior, threw into temporary chaos an abortive revolt by a small and disorganized faction of the group to nudge a slate of Apathy men onto Council lists. Latest reports show, however, that in six other Houses, the apathy men remained true to their creed and failed in droves to attend the meetings...
...strange life. She was born, the Princess Chin Pi-hui (Radiant Jade) of the Manchu dynasty, overthrown in 1911 by China's Sun Yatsen. She had been adopted by a member of Japan's powerful Black Dragon society, renamed Yoshiko (Beautiful One), reared man-fashion in the warrior code of Nippon. As a girl she dedicated herself to the overthrow of the Chinese Republic and the restoration of her house. She became a Japanese spy, masquerading as a taxi-dancer, a Chinese soldier, even as a Korean prostitute (Chinese officers preferred them). She came to be known...
Punch & Power. Peter Grimes is more than a new opera; for the Met it is a new kind of opera. Dissonance has been heard in the Met's hallowed halls before-in Strauss's Elektra and Salome. Bernard Rogers' The Warrior, which was flashed on & off last year, was nonsensically dissonant. Britten's music runs from perky jigs in the woodwinds to forceful, discordant barkings in the brass. The Met's soggy chorus would need a shot in the arm to handle some of the rounds, which sound like sea chanties and are as complex...
...Wagnerian gods of Gotterdämmerung snorted and bellowed in their Valhalla. In the wings, a huge Siegfried, mounted on a ladder, sagged his 230 Ibs. down onto waiting shoulders to be borne on stage. "I'm getting too fat for this," grumbled hefty Heldentenor Lauritz Melchior. A warrior-god charged into musty corners, looking for his sword; bored spear carriers fumbled through a prop basket full of hunting horns. Behind the backdrop a ragged army of stagehands lounged on the rocks of the Rhine (out of use for the moment), gulping coffee from paper cartons and jeering...