By Kevin Salat
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
10/21/19
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
10/21/19
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Monday, October 21, 2019
ACROSS
1 Thespian’s
platform
6 English Derby site
11 Earlier
14 Handsome god
15 “Me too!”
16 Coffee hour
vessel
17 Vessel for Bond
19 Sigma follower
20 Golf tournament
kickoff
21 Clairvoyant
22 B-ball
24 Spanish “month”
25 Money in the
middle of a poker
table
27 Smoke for
Sherlock
28 “... for the
remainder of my
days”
34 No-holds-__
37 “Like it __ ... ”
38 2020 Super Bowl
number
39 Lemony Snicket’s
evil count
40 Celestial shower
component
42 Ice cream holder
43 “The Greatest”
boxer
44 Painter of café
scenes
45 John of “Three’s
Company”
47 Places to get
bronzed skin
50 Adolescent
51 Cuteness
reactions
52 State-of-the-__
55 “Me too!”
56 Give off
59 Debate topic
61 Game with Draw
Two cards
62 Communication
confusion ... or
what’s literally
found in this
puzzle’s three
sets of circles
65 Quito’s country,
to the IOC
66 “Time is money,”
e.g.
67 Texting devices
68 Filming site
69 Tibetan priests
70 Engaged in battle
DOWN
1 Fifth tire
2 Pamplona
runners
3 Utah ski resort
4 Quick look
5 Ages and ages
6 Beat by a bit
7 Paperwork
accumulation
8 “A __ Is Born”
9 Tense NBA
periods
10 Slam-dancing
area
11 Tesla self-driving
car system
12 Fruity metaphor
for a rumor mill
13 Burden
14 Clock radio
toggle
18 “No one __
blame”
23 Crude in a tanker
26 2018 Best Actor
Gary
28 Dog’s bark
29 What students
take at lectures
30 Legendary Garbo
31 Twelve
24-Acrosses
32 Melancholy
33 Of all time
34 Yacht or ferry
35 Suddenly
36 Postponed, as a
ball game
41 U.K. language
42 Dime’s 10: Abbr.
44 Barely enough
46 Acumen
48 Prefix with liberal
49 Pull-up muscles,
briefly
52 Yoga posture
53 Measuring stick
54 Hardy’s “__ of the
D’Urbervilles”
55 Takes to court
56 More than a quiz
57 Prefix between
kilo- and giga-
58 March 15,
notably
60 Skiing surface
63 Wash. neighbor
64 Hoppy brew, for
short
6A — Monday, October 21, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
At Bear Creek Studios last summer, just outside
Seattle, the indie band Big Thief hit a point of contention.
In their secluded, wooden cabin studio, they realized
they had over two albums worth of music to record.
Lead singer and prolific writer, Adrianne Lenker, had
created over 50 songs in the two years since releasing
their sophomore album, Capacity. Only five days after
recording their third album U.F.O.F, Big Thief hunkered
down to record the follow-up Two Hands.
Big Thief physically linked the two albums together
from the beginning; when fans purchased U.F.O.F. on
vinyl in July 2019, they noticed blank 7” records in their
purchase, with the unreleased single “Two Hands.”
Little did fans know, this subtle gesture hinted at the
connectedness to a companion album that was on its
way. Now, we finally have both — Big Thief’s golden age
is in full bloom.
Two Hands is a down-to-earth album that investigates
the nature of bodies and of the earth, illuminating
brothers, lovers and the planet as a collective body.
Where U.F.O.F escapes towards out-of-body experiences
(with production that matches the drum of a spiritual
ethos), Two Hands roots itself in the body, launching
into uncharted territory in its practical yet questioning
encasement of the human experience. Still, the temporal
closeness of both records’ creation shows: Lenker’s
autobiographical moments and use of characters peels
back layers, which is paired with an extreme willingness
to be vulnerable. This is Big Thief’s sweet spot.
Two Hands interrogates the social follies we’re all
responsible for, while remaining in touching distance to
the beautiful glow of our bodies and earth. The record
does the same sonically: Lenker’s voice has a delicate
desperation that cries out as if for justice, but the
fingerpicking and chord progression always pulls her
back into a swing. All the while, the use of descending
chord progressions in Two Hands lowers listeners down
to the soil.
Lead single “Forgotten Eyes” is emblematic of
what Big Thief does thematically throughout the
album. “Forgotten Eyes” dives into climate change,
homelessness and violence, taking these social issues and
situating them in a singular identity. The lyrics position
“them” next to “I,” creating a sort of accountability
with the lyrics “And the poison is killing them, but then
so am I.” In these lines, Lenker’s voice breaks, but is
saved by the chorus, a rush of soothing chords, as the
listener is settled into the grounded, fruitful message:
“Everybody needs a home and deserves protection.”
Desperate breakaways in vocals followed by humming
instrumentation might be the best way to describe
the genius of Two Hands, both sonically and lyrically.
Lenker’s voice breaks and shreds, allowing her to
delicately stray for emphasis, until the chord progression
and more symmetric fingerpicking brings the listener
back under her protection, weaving a soothing cocoon
that pulls her breaking voice back in. The album is quiet
at the right times, building gently to Lenker’s piercing
moments.
The title track “Two Hands” emphasizes the earthen
nature of this record. Lenker is in her upper register,
complemented with guitar sequences that emulate birds
chirping — it has a Snow White quality. She goes from
a Disney princess singing to the birds, earthly in every
sense, to a musician of much harsher tones later in the
record, specifically on the track “Not.” “Not” carries the
most pent-up anger on the album, repeating the use of
“not” or “nor” at the beginning of each line, then listing
entities we touch, feel, taste, see and hear. Right after the
aggression of the track “Not” we get “Wolves,” which
brings us back to nature, using a consistent droning note
and a complex rhythm on top, as if to catch the morning
sun. Lenker’s “ooos” start to sound like the howl of a
wolf.
My personal favorite on the record, “Shoulders,”
reflects on violence in our own veins, with the fierce
lyrics: “It’s me, it’s me, it’s in my veins.” Big Thief
takes on large topics like violence and looks at them
microscopically. For another example, “The Toy” haunts
with a sound that coos, while its lyrics suggest the toy in
her hand could be a gun.
2019 is the year of Big Thief. Lenker draws in fans
with an intense stare that kills, and a voice that murders.
With Two Hands, Big Thief evolves their sound to be
gentle yet powerful, melodic social commentary on our
own bodies and the body of human beings collectively.
Big Thief’s pair of 2019 albums emphasize the love of
interconnection. This sort of locked-in, groundedness to
each other and to the earth itself, as displayed on Two
Hands, is best encompassed in the following quote from
Lenker in an interview with Stereogum:
“I think in the next 10 years, we’re probably going to
find some way to protect some patch of the earth and
maybe build a studio and have underprivileged children
be able to come and make music … We want to create
something that would help, not just donate money we get
from tour to organizations but try and grow closer to the
earth, closer to our own centers.”
That’s what Two Hands does — it grounds us. It brings
us closer to our own centers.
‘Two Hands’ lands gracefully
SAMANTHA CANTIE
Daily Arts Writer
Two Hands
Big Thief
Saddle Creek
NETFLIX
ALBUM REVIEW
CLARA SCOTT
Senior Arts Editor
The idea of “gifted and talented” programs
is nothing new: In fact, I would expect many of
the people at the University were a part of one in
the past. It’s a good way to group students with
exceptional promise together, and also a perfect
opportunity to infuse school with a sense of
bizarre competitive edge early on. It’s this idea
of gifted children, especially those who might be
more gifted than the average child, that serves as
the bedrock of Stephen King’s newest novel “The
Institute,” an entertaining and wholeheartedly
disturbing take on what happens when
institutions take advantage of bright youngsters.
Looking at the title, it’s easy to make
connections between the novel and several other
stories of gifted children, most notably Charles
Xavier’s school for mutants in the X-Men
franchise. But King, as the master of thrillers he
is, takes a slower, more deliberate approach to
the premise, building suspense and terror with
an expert hand. In fact, the book is so slow in the
beginning that it’s not clear what the plot will
actually be for the first forty pages or so, one of
its only faults. For any other author, most readers
wouldn’t have the stamina to continue through a
slog of exposition like that of King’s description
of protagonist Tim Jamieson. Despite this, the
first few chapters of the novel are just interesting
enough
to
maintain
intrigue,
expecting
something to happen at every turn. The slow
burn is typical of many King novels, but holds a
special prescience in this narrative. In this way,
King’s reputation as a writer precedes even the
content of “The Institute,” but it’s a trust that is
earned quickly as the novel revs up.
Jamieson, a cop with a broken past, finds
himself inexplicably thrown into the rinky-dink
goings-on of a small South Carolina town called
DuPray. Every character the reader is introduced
to seems like a stereotype, from the lovable
sheriff to the town’s resident conspiracy nut.
But somehow, in true King style, not even these
tropes seem contrived. In the setting of DuPray,
anything could happen and you’d brush it off
as small-town antics. Although not clear at the
beginning, this environment’s characteristics
lend themselves to larger happenings, the close
net of townspeople supporting each other
through it all. This attention to detail is what
makes a reader start to realize the brilliance of
King’s work, and the fact that even he, the master
of an entire genre, can improve with each book.
Not many writers could spend so much time on a
seemingly run-down Southern town and have it
pay off, but he is always 12 steps ahead.
Although the beginning of “The Institute”
is dedicated to DuPray, the vast majority of the
novel is centered around its other protagonist,
12-year-old genius Luke Ellis. Ellis is considering
going to college before he even goes through
puberty, and his unassuming but loving parents
are all on board. They meet with the principal,
figure out the money, and hesitantly wait to
push their son, both brilliant and grounded in
atypical fashion for a child prodigy, out into the
big scary world. That is, until Luke is suddenly
kidnapped and shipped under cover of night to
the book’s eponymous Institute. This happens
as quickly in King’s writing as it must have felt
for the characters themselves, one day hemming
and hawing over the cost of college tuition and
the next in a completely different world. The
Institute isn’t a place for young geniuses to go
and be supported into their adult genius lives; no,
it’s much more sinister than that.
Despite Ellis’s status as one of the smartest
preteens in existence, this is not the reason he’s
taken from our world into that of the Institute.
Instead, it’s the fact that he is slightly telekinetic
(TK, as the other kids at the compound put it),
that make him a perfect target for the forces
behind his kidnapping. Though the premise may
seem like that of a cheesy young adult novel, King
manages to make their predicament urgent,
and the situations the children find themselves
navigating very, very adult. Inside the Institute,
children both telekinetic and telepathic are put
through a rigorous battery of tests and tortures,
all under the guise of military service. They
live in rooms that are perfect replicas of theirs
at home, except without windows. They are
served gourmet meals in a posh cafeteria, but
the vending machines offer cigarettes and tiny
minibar alcohol in addition to their usual wares.
The children are given shots and plunged into
ice-cold tanks. Clearly, this isn’t a normal school
for gifted children. But it isn’t a prison, either —
the real dread of the novel is the reader’s inability
to tell where it falls in the middle.
Children between the ages of eight and
15 roam the concrete halls, being used for an
unknown purpose to further an unknown cause.
King’s portrayal of the Institute is subtle, but that
subtlety is what makes it even more terrifying.
There are clear antagonists, but their intentions
are fuzzy, the morals of what they are doing hard
to discern. All the reader knows is that the kids
shouldn’t be there, with a low hum of suspense
coloring every move they make.
The novel is hefty, as King’s books typically
are, but it plugs along at a pace that makes
its density nearly effortless to navigate. You
can tell that “The Institute” is one of over 50
books in King’s catalog, because it seems like
it was written by someone with nearly infinite
wisdom and insight into his own ideas. Every
question that needs to be answered is answered,
eventually. Though it’s the questions that King
chooses not to tie up that make the novel so
intriguing. Reading the book’s nearly 600 pages
seems like walking down a carefully laid path,
with every stone in the perfect position to lead
you to the next one. Nothing is revealed too early,
or brought up too late.
‘Institute’ brings terror
BOOK REVIEW
The Institute
Stephen King
Scribner
Sept. 10, 2019
ALIX CURNOW
Daily Arts Writer
The University’s Musical Theatre Department’s production of
“Pirates of Penzance” can be categorized as a pleasant surprise.
Full of intense choreography, immense vocal skill and colorful
costumes, the production was brimming with excitement.
The stage was alive with pirates, nervous generals and a slew
of intelligent daughters. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my
Sunday afternoon anywhere besides Cornwall, England with this
hodgepodge of characters.
“Pirates of Penzance,” with music by Arthur Sullivan and a
libretto by W.S. Gilbert, has never been my favorite theatrical
endeavor. In fact, most of Gilbert and Sullivan’s work is not my
favorite — I find the work dated and overdone. When I heard
that the Musical Theatre Department was doing it this year, I
rolled my eyes. It’s marketability to University donors makes it a
fiscally reasonable choice for University productions. However,
artistically, its story doesn’t strike me as much of a theatrical
challenge for the students involved.
However, under the direction of The School of Music, Theatre
& Dance’s faculty Vincent J. Cardinal, this version of “Pirates”
was unlike anything I could have anticipated from the 18th
century comic opera. Cardinal’s vision brought a newfound sense
of liveliness and flare to the production. It was “Pirates,” but on
steroids.
The choreography by Cassie Abate contributed greatly to the
high production quality of this opera. Abate used the number
of talented dancers at her disposal to her advantage. For less
experienced choreographers, the sheer amount of bodies on
stage could be a recipe for disaster as it opens up opportunities
for creating a cluttered and messy image. However, Abate’s
detailed and intricate choreography work allowed for fabulously
orchestrated movements between performers. There was
constantly something to catch your eye, be it a flip, a kick or a tap
dance (yes, a break-out tap dance number in “Pirates” — talk about
surprises!). Thanks to Abate and her assistant choreographer
Maya Alwan, SMTD senior and musical theatre major, the lack
of an interesting story line was made up for by the incredible
dancing.
There was not a single actor on stage who did not fully commit to
their role. The talent of each performer proved why the University
is known for its stellar Musical Theatre program. With a cast so
incredibly talented, it is difficult to pick out performances that
shine above the rest. However, the performances from SMTD
senior musical theatre majors Commodore C. Primous III and
Nina White are certainly worthy of note.
Primous played Pirate King, a comedic villain of sorts, who
ruled over the other pirates in the show. Primous had a physicality
that many actors would kill for, not to mention his lively facial
expressions and comedic timing. If someone had told me he played
this role eight times a week on Broadway, I wouldn’t bat an eye. It
seemed to be made for him.
White was fiery as Ruth — an older woman who is abandoned
by her love, Frederic. Similar to Primous, the playfulness White
incorporated in her rendition of Ruth made for some great
comedic bits. She proved to be a fantastic character actor and fully
committed to her role as a 45-year-old nanny.
If someone were to ask you to see an 18th century comedic opera,
you might politely decline. However, sometimes expectations
don’t coincide with reality. The University’s production of
“Pirates of Penzance” was one full of delightfully good surprises.
Get your tickets for the second weekend now, while you still have
the chance.
‘The Pirates of Penzance’ prevails
COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW
Cardinal’s vision brought a
newfound sense of liveliness
and flare to the production.
It was “Pirates,” but on
steroids.
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com