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

