Results tagged “newyorker”

The short story is an unfortunate middle child. Not romanticized like poetry, nor widely read like novels, the short story finds refuge in literary journals, the New Yorker, and writing contests. In fact, the Toronto Star, Broken Pencil, and Eye Weekly all have contests ready for your masterpiece. First, stalwart Toronto Star has its annual short story contest. The top prize includes $5,000 and tuition to the Humber School for Writers for Creative Writing....

Empire building is not something you hear about in Canadian art. Ever. Until Friday night.

The International Readings at Harbourfront Centre unveiled the line-up for their 2007 winter season yesterday. A horde of authors, journalists and poets – some established and some intriguing young talent – will be coming to Toronto over the next few weeks. Book nerds, grab your pens and mark these dates down on your calendars.

Nine graduate students at Ryerson University and York University in the communications and culture program have banded together to create Make the World Your Salon: Modernist Salon Culture, an exhibit that resurrects the salon culture of the early twentieth century frequented by the bohemian artists of the day. The exhibit encompasses photography, artwork, and multi-media, and features graphic photography by New Yorker Carl Van Vechten; a reproduction of Marcel Duchamp’s With White Noise; and the screening of a documentary film about the Paris salon of Natalie Barney and her Sapphic circle.

If a complete stranger stares into your eyes for two minutes on the TTC you'd probably contemplate pulling that alarm. Now if a stranger stares into your eyes for two minutes at an eye-gazing party that's just par for the course.

One of Toronto's larger theatres will soon be dominated by singing, dancing knights, killer Rabbits and farting Frenchmen. Yep, Spamalot will be making a quick jaunt up to Toronto sometime next year as part of Mirvish's 2006-07 season.

Torontoist is well aware that Maisonneuve magazine is out of Montreal, the editors seem to love rubbing that in our Toronto noses. But because they're sooo stylish, smart and funny we forgive 'em for it. Well changes are afoot for the President's Medal winning mag.

It's probably because of the recent Olympics but Torontoist can't help but feel extremely proud of the amazing work that Canadians are doing all over the world and particularly in our world dominating neighbour to the south.

There's been a number of unfavourable comparisons of Stephen Harper and George W. Bush of late, both in politics, media and of course those silly attack ads. But what of a legitimate comparison, at least in terms of the campaign? Here is George Jr. on his father's failed 1992 presidential campaign:

On Tuesday night we took in Marsha Lederman's interview with the hilarious David Rakoff (we just finished his latest, and you should too) and Jonathan Safran Foer. Both fellows were witty and articulate, deftly turning Lederman's occasionally awkward questions around into well-spoken, thoughtful answers. Rakoff discussed his recent acquisition of American citizenship, but explained that he feels less like an American and more like a New Yorker, especially now that America is over its brief sympathy for New York and back to thinking of it as a "nest of pervs." Foer stopped the proceedings at one point to charmingly announce that he had just noticed that he'd stepped in dog poo and felt it best to draw it to everyone's attention so that no one thought he'd let out a nasty. We were especially taken by his stripey socks, until we noticed that he was wearing an identical pair the next day. Perhaps he should pay a visit to Chocky's before the festival is over.

tells the story of a dysfunctional family who have secluded themselves to a remote Baltic island. According to the New Yorker, it was "possibly the most beautiful (of Bergman's films) in its setting and the most heartbreaking in its theme."

You’ve heard it here before.  You’ve read it in the New York Times and Spin magazine and countless other publications.  Montreal is where it’s at and the Arcade Fire is THE Canadian band.  Why even bother to offer an adjective, there’s just too many too choose from.  The critically-and-David Bowie-acclaimed Arcade Fire is “Canada’s most intriguing rock band,” as declared by this week’s Time Magazine’s Canadian Edition, on newsstands now.

Torontoist 'hearts' Malcolm Gladwell and a few us would love to spend an evening listening to the New Yorker writer lecture and pontificate on his new book Blink, which looks at how the snap judgements and impressions made on instinct can be just as valuable as those made by long and thoughtful deliberation.

It's finally here. The revamped national arts and culture multimedia portal we've been waiting for...CBC Arts. While TOist hasn't actually been losing sleep anticipating the debut of the revamped site, we have been eagerly awaiting its unveiling. We had an inkling of what it might look like, because our own debut interview, Antony Hare, had some CBC arts portal designs up on his site. But we quickly brushed what we'd seen from our mind, wanting to see the whole thing properly done up with real copy.

Let's get it out of the way at the onset: Tarnation was made for a paltry $218.32 (U.S.) and edited on IMovie. There, done. Into the film let us away! Jonathan Caouette is nothing if not personal (of course he has a blog!). He's the 32 year-old Texan (and present New Yorker) whose dysfunctional biography of a film is the hottest bit of outsider art to ever be committed to celluloid. The film is made of years of footage, answering machine messages and photos accrued over a life less ordinary. Caouette's mum underwent shock therapy, he was abused, he accidentally did PCP at age 11 - it's enough fodder for a lifetime of movies. And the lifetime of home movies (much of them made with a camera Caouette got as a kid) are distilled into 88 minutes of storytelling cinema that wowed Cannes, California and just about everything in between. Indiewire makes a big hoohah of the fact that Caouette shares initials with Mel Gibson's favourite protagonist, but TOist finds that opener preposterous, ridiculous, and, um, stupid. Though such overbearing press is enough of a cross for any young filmmaker to bear. We hope it's good.

The Year that Was: We won't presume to have seen it all, or read it all, or eaten it all. And so, a digested list of good things that happened in and around the GTA and the universe this year. Okay, in and around this year.

Well, Canadian Prime Minister Paul Martin delivered the political equivalent of a tough spanking to the Sudanese government yesterday, and rightfully so. Khartoum has repeatedly denied assisting or having the capability to stop the janjaweed, the loosely woven group of bandits, looters and rapists that have been terrorizing the western Sudanese province of Darfur for the past year. The clock is ticking now though, as the peace agreement negotiated last week has a shelf life of a little over a month. For an excellent, in-depth profile of the conflict and its sources, check out Samantha Power’s article from an August New Yorker. Bruno Stevens’ stunning accompanying photographs will provide you with a visceral charge, if necessary. An update on the conflict and the proposed peace-agreement brokered by the United Nations can be found here.

Who loves Alice more? CBC Schoolmarm Shelagh Rogers had wanted to interview Alice Munro for seventeen years before she got the chance to fawn over the Gilleress last week. And spectacled Jonathan Franzen made a spectacle of his love for Alice in the pages of the Times Book Review yesterday. Torontoist hasn't read Runaway yet, but we listened to a lively Talking Books panel on the work, one in which New Yorker Adam Gopnik used the word 'expatriated' with such frequency that we had to wonder if he was launching a campaign to bring greater popularity to the unruly term. As for Alice, we're happy for her. We hope she wins the Nobel. We like grand dames who wear sunglasses indoors. But we also really like the BlackBook Mag challenge, the one where they ask readers to put people in the ring together (the interview ring, that is). We'd like to see Franzen and Rogers duke it out. Alice proclaims the victor.

, and many a nights spent looking to Jon Stewart for some clarity, some grounding amidst all this confusion and absurdity. Which reminds us of the excellent, unfinished Avedon symphony in the pages of the New Yorker - an absurd and beautiful election spread that is broad enough to encompass an America that holds both Jon Stewart, and crazy old convention ladies with too much lipstick, and more lapel pins than a waitress at Fridays.