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Take heed to Episode 1 of POPSUGAR’S Not Over It Podcast

If you’re the person in your group of friends everyone turns to for details on the latest celebrity breakup, a new Spotify playlist, or a TV recommendation, we have the perfect podcast for you. Join POPSUGAR editors Becky Kirsch and Zareen Siddiqui Not over it As they dissolve the biggest headlines in the entertainment world and repeat the pop culture moments we all still think about. On this week’s episode, we break up some of the craziest moments of 2020 (who could forget the “Imagine” video?) And get nostalgic about shows like That’s OKand reevaluate everything we thought we knew about Justin Timberlake.

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Johnny Pacheco, Who Helped Carry Salsa to the World, Dies at 85

Johnny Pacheco, the Dominican Republic-born band leader and co-founder of the record label that made salsa music a worldwide sensation, died on Monday in Teaneck, New Jersey. He was 85 years old.

His wife Maria Elena Pacheco, known as Cuqui, confirmed the death at the Holy Name Medical Center. Mr. Pacheco lived in Fort Lee, NJ

Fania Records, which he founded with Jerry Masucci in 1964, signed the hottest talents in Latin American music of the 1960s and 1970s, including Celia Cruz, Willie Colón, Hector Lavoe and Rubén Blades. Mr. Pacheco, a talented flautist, went on and off the stage as the songwriter, arranger and leader of Fania All Stars, the first super group of salsa.

From the beginning he worked with young musicians who brought jazz, rhythm and blues, funk and other styles into traditional Afro-Cuban music.

In the 1970s, Fania, sometimes referred to as the Motown of Salsa, was a powerhouse of Latin American music, and the Fania All Stars toured the world. The label spawned burning creative collaborations, such as those between Mr. Colón, a trombonist and composer, and Mr. Blades, a socially conscious lyricist and singer; and to cultivate heroes like Mr. Lavoe, the Puerto Rican singer who fought drug addiction and died of AIDS complications at the age of 46.

Fania broke up in the mid-1980s due to royalty litigation, and in 2005, Emusica, a Miami company, bought the Fania catalog and began releasing remastered versions of its classic recordings.

Juan Azarías Pacheco Knipping was born on March 25, 1935 in Santiago de los Caballeros, Dominican Republic. His father, Rafael Azarias Pacheco, was a well-known band leader and clarinetist. His mother, Octavia Knipping Rochet, was the granddaughter of a French colonist and the great-granddaughter of a German merchant who married a Dominican woman who was born to Spanish colonists.

The family moved to New York when Johnny was 11 years old. He studied drums at Juilliard School and worked in Latin American bands before founding his own, Pacheco y Su Charanga, in 1960.

The band signed with Alegre Records and their first album sold more than 100,000 copies in the first year. According to its official website, it became one of the best-selling Latin albums of its time. Mr. Pacheco’s career started with the introduction of a new dance craze called Pachanga. He became an international star and toured the US, Europe, Asia and Latin America.

Fania Records was born from an unlikely partnership between Mr. Pacheco and Mr. Masucci, a former police officer who became a lawyer and fell in love with Latin music while visiting Cuba.

From its humble beginnings in Harlem and the Bronx – where releases were sold out of the trunk of cars – Fania brought an urban sensibility to Latin American music. In New York, the music had taken on the name “Salsa” (Spanish for sauce, as in hot sauce) and the Fania label began using it as part of their marketing.

Under the direction of Mr. Pacheco, the artists built a new sound based on traditional clave rhythms and the Cuban Son (or Son Cubano) genre, but faster and more aggressive. Much of the lyrics – about racism, cultural pride, and the turbulent politics of the era – were far removed from the pastoral and romantic scenes in traditional Cuban songs.

In this sense, salsa was “native American music that is just as much a part of the indigenous music landscape as jazz, rock or hip-hop,” wrote Jody Rosen in 2006 in the New York Times on the occasion of the new edition of the Fania master tapes – after years of being in Schimmel a warehouse in Hudson, NY

Recognition…Fania

Mr. Pacheco teamed up with Ms. Cruz in the early 1970s. Their first album, “Celia & Johnny”, was a strong mix of heavy salsa with infectious choruses and virtuoso performances. Thanks to Ms. Cruz’s vocal skills and Mr. Pacheco’s big band directing, it soon went gold, and its first track, the fast-paced “Quimbara,” helped drive Ms. Cruz’s career to Queen of Salsa status to lead.

The two released more than 10 albums together; Mr. Pacheco was the producer on her last solo recording, “La Negra Tiene Tumbao”, which won the 2002 Grammy for Best Salsa Album.

Over the years, Mr. Pacheco has produced for several artists and performed around the world. He contributed to film scores, including one for The Mambo Kings, a 1992 film based on Oscar Hijuelos’ novel The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love. “For the Jonathan Demme film” Something Wild ” he teamed up with David Byrne, the head of Talking Heads, one of his many eclectic partnerships.

Mr. Pacheco, who has received numerous awards and honors in both the Dominican Republic and the United States, was inducted into the International Latin Music Hall of Fame in 1998. He wrote more than 150 songs, many of which are now classics.

For many years he directed the Johnny Pacheco Latin Music and Jazz Festival at Lehman College in the Bronx, an annual event in association with the college (broadcast live in recent years) which brings together hundreds of talented young musicians studying music in New York City schools provide the stage.

In addition to this woman, Mr. Pacheco’s survivors include two daughters, Norma and Joanne; and two sons, Elis and Phillip.

The salsa phenomenon that Mr. Pacheco created reached new heights on August 23, 1973 with a sold out volcano show at Yankee Stadium, where the Fania All Stars got 40,000 fans to a musical frenzy led by Mr. Pacheco, his was rhinestone-studded white shirt, bathed in sweat. The concert cemented the legendary stature of the band and his own.

Recognition…Fania Records

In 1975 Fania released the long-awaited double album “Live at Yankee Stadium”, which despite the name also contained material from a show at the Roberto Clemente Coliseum in Puerto Rico, which had a much better sound quality. The album earned the Fania All Stars their first Grammy nomination for Best Latin Recording.

In 2004, it was added to the National Recording Registry by the Library of Congress.

Michael Levenson contributed to the coverage.

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‘Tom Stoppard’ Tells of an Monumental Life Spent in Fixed Movement

The way the cricket bat taps a ball and makes it sail an unlikely distance becomes a metaphor for writing in Stoppard’s hands. No living playwright has produced such a beautiful sound so regularly (snaps his tongue to make the noise).

[ Read Charles McGrath’s profile of Hermione Lee. ]

The adjective “Stoppardian” – to use elegant wit while addressing philosophical concerns – was added to the Oxford English Dictionary in 1978. His pieces are trees in which he precariously climbs on every limb. These trees sway. There is electricity in the air, like before a summer thunderstorm.

Stoppard’s best-known pieces are “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead”, “The Real Thing”, “Arcadia” and “The Coast of Utopia”. (His most recent work, “Leopoldstadt”, is closed for the time being due to Covid-19.) He co-wrote the script for “Shakespeare in Love” and has written or edited dozens of other scripts. He has written a novel and written a number of screenplays for radio and television.

At 83, he had an enormous life. In the astute and authoritative new biography “Tom Stoppard: A Life”, Hermione Lee wrestles everything aside. Sometimes you can feel that she is chasing a fox through a forest. Stoppard is constantly on the move – he flies back and forth across the Atlantic, takes care of the many revivals of his pieces, keeps the plates moving, agitates on behalf of dissidents, artists and political prisoners in Eastern Europe, gives lectures, accepts prizes, repairs scripts, lavish parties, friendships with Pinter, Vaclav Havel, Steven Spielberg, Mick Jagger and others. It was an enchanted life lived by a bewitching man. Tall, dashing, with big eyes, shaggy hair; for women, Stoppard was a walking stimulus package.

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Dancing for Many Cameras, within the Spherical: ‘It’s Muybridge on Steroids’

In mid-2020, Herman Cornejo, one of the best male dancers of his generation, lost his mojo. The company he dances for, the American Ballet Theater, had to close its studios due to the pandemic. He was fed up with exercising at home alone on a 5 by 7 foot square of vinyl flooring provided by the Ballet Theater. “If I do a single Grand Jeté” – one of the powerful, spacious jumps for which it is known – “I end up next to the wall,” he said at the time.

“I pushed myself to keep going until I realized that pushing myself would only make me worse,” he said recently. For the first time since he started dancing when he was 8, he took a break. It was then that he realized he had to create something of his own, he said.

Personal appearances were not an option. The dance films he’d seen were unsatisfactory – too shallow, too impersonal. Instead, he was determined to come up with something that “brings people closer to dancers,” he said, “that brings you into the same room with them and allows you to move around in the space”. Technology offered one possible solution.

With this in mind, he turned to the photographer, filmmaker and self-proclaimed “photo scientist” Steven Sebring, who had produced a short dance film for Cornejo’s 20th anniversary at the Ballet Theater.

Their new collaboration “DANCELIVE by Herman Cornejo” will be shown on Saturday on the Veeps website, an online performance platform. It will consist of two dances recorded by Sebring with an in-the-round camera system developed by Sebring in his laboratory in the city center, as well as rehearsal material to give viewers an impression of how the material was created.

A dance is a duet that the choreographer Joshua Beamish created for Cornejo and his colleague Skylar Brandt. the other, a solo developed by Cornejo for himself, plays Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”. Both involve ways to see the dancers that you can’t get in a theater: you can see them up close and see their movements from all sides and angles, the visual equivalent of surround sound. You can see them moving, seemingly on different planes and at different speeds, or floating in the air as if time were being extended.

QR codes (those square barcodes that look like a strange postage stamp) allow viewers to use their phones to interact with the online images, moving them back and forth, or converting them to augmented reality.

Still, this first sample will only give a small taste of the bigger experiences Cornejo and Sebring have in mind.

Over the past decade, Sebring, who has worked with fashion brands, bands, galleries, and museums and made the award-winning film Patti Smith: Dream of Life in 2008, has developed a method to capture his Eadweard-inspired motifs in Muybridge’s photographic motion studies of the late 19th century. These studies, called chronophotographs, were sequential series of photos of animals and people jumping, walking (or dancing). Shown together, they documented every phase of movement.

Like Muybridge, Sebring takes a series of still images – he calls them “pure moments of reality” – with cameras set up in a circle. With the help of digital technology, he then arranges them into sequences that suggest an immersive, three-dimensional and even four-dimensional space and movement. (What he calls four-dimensional recording are images that track movement through space over time and create overlapping impressions, such as the phases of movement in Duchamp’s “Nude Descending a Staircase”.)

“It’s Muybridge versus steroids,” he said recently during a Zoom tour of his workshop.

Over time, the two artists hope to create a virtual performance space that builds on the capabilities of video game platforms. It will offer subscribers movies, stills, and live streams of the creation process, “almost like being on a reality show,” Cornejo said. The audience can see the dances in augmented reality (as if the dancers were in their room) or in virtual reality (as if they were in the dancers’ room).

But all of this will take time and money. This first version is just a first step.

Cornejo and Sebring aren’t the first to work on immersive and augmented reality dance experiences. “What they are doing is very much in line with the latest developments in volumetric video technology,” said filmmaker Alla Kovgan, who directed the 3-D dance documentary “Cunningham,” in a recent interview. “During a standard volumetric video recording, the dancer is filmed from every possible direction and then converted into a 3D model that is similar to the actual dancer or can be used to create a different character.”

She added, “In both cases the goal is to preserve the authenticity and nuance of the dancers’ performance and free the audience from a single fixed point of view.”

But because the basic unit in Sebring’s system is still photography instead of film, the process is faster and cheaper than volumetric video. This also means that he can have a small team – “DANCELIVE” consists of around 10 people – with tighter artistic control and the ability to react to and adapt the material with little effort.

Cornejo and Sebring began their collaboration in November in the Sebring Cabinet of Curiosities in a building on the Lower East Side that housed a variety house, the Clinton Theater, at the beginning of the 20th century. Much of the space is taken up by Sebring’s devices: handcrafted towers of his own design for viewing holograms at comfortable heights, a multi-screen control table, and a futuristic-looking thing he calls the Sebring Revolution System.

The wooden revolutionary system rises like a giant cylinder 30 feet in diameter with walls the height of three people standing end to end. Over 100 still cameras are embedded in these walls.

When you enter – as I did virtually – it looks like a strange, pure white capsule, the walls of which are only interrupted by round portholes for the cameras and the outline of the door.

Skylar Brandt, Cornejo’s dance partner in “New York Alive”, the Beamish piece, described the feeling of dancing with Cornejo in the top hat. “We went in, just the two of us, and performed on the white walls for hours,” she said in a telephone interview. “It was a bit like dancing in space.”

But the longer they danced in the circular room, Cornejo said, the more they found their bearings. “I could hear the cameras shooting around me,” he said, “and they became like the audience looking in.”

A 15-minute dance produces more than 20,000 still images captured around the dancers over the course of several dozen revolutions – the “revolutions” after which the Sebring Revolution takes its name.

The footage captured by the cameras is played back almost instantly on screens in the studio, which means it can be edited in real time. It is like bringing Leonardo’s “Vitruvian Man” to life in motion and in three dimensions.

In November, Beamish worked with Cornejo’s team in the studio for three weeks – a leisurely pace for the ballet world – trying to find ways to play with the camera effects. “I let go of the idea of ​​creating a piece that would work on stage and thought about what was the most compelling in front of the camera,” he said.

Filming was a process of discovery. “Ballet can be so strict,” says Cornejo. “Working with Steven has helped me deconstruct and open up what I’ve been doing for so long.” A situation beyond his control has forced him to loosen his control over what he is doing and use new tools to find new ways of looking at his craft.

It also provided a reason to go back to the studio. As Sebring put it, “This is a time for artists. We have to take care of ourselves. “

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Regé-Jean Web page and Emily Brown Hug Earlier than London Flight

Dear reader, it seems Bridgerton Star Regé-Jean Page may have found Romance IRL. On February 9, before a flight to London, he was seen hugging writer and athlete Emily Brown. Phew, this smolder is hard to miss! The two were in a good mood as they hugged amid the snowflakes. Both wore long puffer coats and winter clothes.

Regé-Jean is particularly private about his relationship status. Of course, the audience tried to establish love relationships with him Bridgerton Costar Phoebe Dynevor, whom, like the Duke of Hastings, he skilfully bypassed on the dance floor. “I think all you need to know is in front of the camera. That’s why we presented it so nicely for you,” he joked during an interview with Access Hollywood. He added, “All the sparks that have flown from the beautiful scripts given to us, and so I think the sparkling script material is more than enough.”

The actor has yet to confirm or comment on his relationship with Emily, and she has remained similarly silent. Maybe it’s because Regé already has a lot on his plate – what about his Saturday night live Hosting gig is coming up. For the moment we let the following photos tell the story.

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Obscure Musicology Journal Sparks Battles Over Race and Free Speech

A periodical devoted to the study of a long-dead European music theorist is an unlikely suspect to spark an explosive battle over race and free speech.

But the tiny Journal of Schenkerian Studies, with a paid circulation of about 30 copies an issue per year, has ignited a fiery reckoning over race and the limits of academic free speech, along with whiffs of a generational struggle. The battle threatens to consume the career of Timothy Jackson, a 62-year-old music theory professor at the University of North Texas, and led to calls to dissolve the journal.

It also prompted Professor Jackson to file an unusual lawsuit charging the university with violating his First Amendment rights — while accusing his critics of defamation.

This tale began in the autumn of 2019 when Philip Ewell, a Black music theory professor at Hunter College, addressed the Society for Music Theory in Columbus, Ohio. He described music theory as dominated by white males and beset by racism. He held up the theorist Heinrich Schenker, who died in Austria in 1935, as an exemplar of that flawed world, a “virulent racist” who wrote of “primitive” and “inferior” races — views, he argued, that suffused his theories of music.

“I’ve only scratched the surface in showing out how Schenker’s racism permeates his music theories,” Professor Ewell said, accusing generations of Schenker scholars of trying to “whitewash” the theorist in an act of “colorblind racism.”

The society’s members — its professoriate is 94 percent white — responded with a standing ovation. Many younger faculty members and graduate students embraced his call to dismantle “white mythologies” and study non-European music forms. The tone was of repentance.

“We humbly acknowledge that we have much work to do to dismantle the whiteness and systemic racism that deeply shape our discipline,” the society’s executive board later stated.

At the University of North Texas, however, Professor Jackson, a white musicologist, watched a video of that speech and felt a swell of anger. His fellow scholars stood accused, some by name, of constructing a white “witness protection program” and shrugging off Schenker’s racism. That struck him as unfair and inaccurate, as some had explored Schenker’s oft-hateful views on race and ethnicity.

A tenured music theory professor, Professor Jackson was the grandson of Jewish émigrés and had lost many relatives in the Holocaust. He had a singular passion: He searched out lost works by Jewish composers hounded and killed by the Nazis.

And he devoted himself to the study of Schenker, a towering Jewish intellect credited with stripping music to its essence in search of an internal language. The Journal of Schenkerian Studies, published under the aegis of the University of North Texas, was read by a small but intense coterie of scholars.

He and other North Texas professors decided to explore Professor Ewell’s claims about connections between Schenker’s racial views and music theories.

They called for essays and published every submission. Five essays stoutly defended Professor Ewell; most of the remaining 10 essays took strong issue. One was anonymous. Another was plainly querulous. (“Ewell of course would reply that I am white and by extension a purveyor of white music theory, while he is Black,” wrote David Beach, a retired dean of music at the University of Toronto. “I can’t argue with that.”).

Professor Jackson’s essay was barbed. Schenker, he wrote, was no privileged white man. Rather he was a Jew in prewar Germany, the definition of the persecuted other. The Nazis destroyed much of his work and his wife perished in a concentration camp.

Professor Jackson then took an incendiary turn. He wrote that Professor Ewell had scapegoated Schenker within “the much larger context of Black-on-Jew attacks in the United States” and that his “denunciation of Schenker and Schenkerians may be seen as part and parcel of the much broader current of Black anti-Semitism.” He wrote that such phenomena “currently manifest themselves in myriad ways, including the pattern of violence against Jews, the obnoxious lyrics of some hip-hop songs, etc.”

Noting the paucity of Black musicians in classical music, Professor Jackson wrote that “few grow up in homes where classical music is profoundly valued.” He proposed increased funding for music education and a commitment to demolishing “institutionalized racist barriers.”

And he took pointed shots at Professor Ewell.

“I understand full well,” Professor Jackson wrote, “that Ewell only attacks Schenker as a pretext to his main argument: That liberalism is a racist conspiracy to deny rights to ‘people of color.’”

His remarks lit a rhetorical match. The journal appeared in late July. Within days the executive board of the Society for Music Theory stated that several essays contained “anti-Black statements and personal ad hominem attacks” and said that its failure to invite Professor Ewell to respond was designed to “replicate a culture of whiteness.”

Soon after, 900 professors and graduate students signed a letter denouncing the journal’s editors for ignoring peer review. The essays, they stated, constituted “anti-Black racism.”

Graduate students at the University of North Texas issued an unsigned manifesto calling for the journal to be dissolved and for the “potential removal” of faculty members who used it “to promote racism.”

University of North Texas officials in December released an investigation that accused Professor Jackson of failing to hew to best practices and of having too much power over the journal’s graduate student editor. He was barred him from the magazine, and money for the Schenker Center was suspended.

Jennifer Evans-Crowley, the university’s provost, did not rule out that disciplinary steps might be taken against Professor Jackson. “I can’t speak to that at this time,” she told The New York Times.

Professor Jackson stands shunned by fellow faculty. Two graduate students who support him told me their peers feared that working with him could damage their careers.

“Everything has become exceedingly polarized and the Twitter mob is like a quasi-fascist police state,” Professor Jackson said in an interview. “Any imputation of racism is anathema and therefore I must be exorcised.”

This controversy raises intertwined questions. What is the role of universities in policing intellectual debate? Academic duels can be metaphorically bloody affairs. Marxists slash and parry with monetarists; postmodernists trade punches with modernists. Tenure and tradition traditionally shield sharp-tongued academics from censure.

For a university to intrude struck others as alarming. Samantha Harris, a lawyer with the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education, or FIRE, a free speech advocacy group, urged the university to drop its investigation.She did not argue Professor Jackson’s every word was temperate.

“This is an academic disagreement and it should be hashed out in journals of music theory,” Ms. Harris said. “The academic debate centers on censorship and putting orthodoxy over education, and that is chilling.”

That said, race is an electric wire in American society and a traditional defense of untrammeled speech on campus competes with a newer view that speech itself can constitute violence. Professors who denounced the journal stressed that they opposed censorship but noted pointedly that cultural attitudes are shifting.

“I’m educated in the tradition that says the best response to bad speech is more speech,” said Professor Edward Klorman of McGill University. “But sometimes the traditional idea of free speech comes into conflict with safety and inclusivity.”

There is too a question with which intellectuals have long wrestled. What to make of intellectuals who voice monstrous thoughts? The renowned philosopher Martin Heidegger was a Nazi Party member and Paul de Man, a deconstructionist literary theorist, wrote for pro-Nazi publications. The Japanese writer Yukio Mishima eroticized fascism and tried to inspire a coup.

Schenker, who was born in Galicia, part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, was an ardent cultural Germanophile and given to dyspeptic diatribes. He spoke of the “filthy” French; English, and Italians as “inferior races”; and Slavs as “half animals.” Africans had a “cannibal spirit.”

Did his theoretical brilliance counter the weight of disreputable rages?

Professor Ewell argued that Schenker’s racism and theories are inseparable. “At a minimum,” he wrote in a paper, “we must present Schenker’s work to our students in full view of his racist beliefs.”

The dispute has played out beyond the United States. Forty-six scholars and musicians in Europe and the Middle East wrote a defense of Professor Jackson and sounded a puzzled note. Professor Ewell, they wrote, delivered a provocative polemic with accusations aimed at living scholars and Professor Jackson simply answered in kind.

Neither professor is inclined to back down. A cellist and scholar of Russian classical music, Professor Ewell, 54, describes himself as an activist for racial, gender and social justice and a critic of whiteness in music theory.

Shortly after the Journal of Schenkerian Studies appeared in July, Professor Ewell — who eight years ago published in that journal — canceled a lecture at the University of North Texas. He said he had not read the essays that criticized him.

“I won’t read them because I won’t participate in my dehumanization,” he told The Denton Record-Chronicle in Texas. “They were incensed by my Blackness challenging their whiteness.”

Professor Ewell, who also is on the faculty of the City University of New York Graduate Center, declined an interview with The Times. He is part of a generation of scholars who are undertaking critical-race examinations of their fields. In “Music Theory and the White Racial Frame,” the paper he presented in Columbus, he writes that he is for all intents “a practitioner of white music theory” and that “rigorous conversations about race and whiteness” are required to “make fundamental antiracist changes in our structures and institutions.”

For music programs to require mastery of German, he has said, “is racist obviously.” He has criticized the requirement that music Ph.D. students study German or a limited number of “white” languages, noting that at Yale he needed a dispensation to study Russian. He wrote that the “antiracist policy solution” would be “to require languages with one new caveat: any language — including sign language and computer languages, for instance — is acceptable with the exception of Ancient Greek, Latin, Italian, French or German, which will only be allowed by petition as a dispensation.”

Last April he fired a broadside at Beethoven, writing that it would be academically irresponsible to call him more than an “above average” composer. Beethoven, he wrote, “has been propped up by whiteness and maleness for 200 years.”

As for Schenker, Professor Ewell argued that his racism informed his music theories: “As with the inequality of races, Schenker believed in the inequality of tones.”

That view is contested. Professor Eric Wen arrived in the United States from Hong Kong six decades ago and amid slurs and loneliness discovered in classical music what he describes as a colorblind solace. Schenker held a key to mysteries.

“Schenker penetrated to the heart of what makes music enduring and inspiring,” said Professor Wen, who teaches at the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. “He was no angel and so what? His ideology is problematic but his insights are massive.”

How this ends is not clear. The university report portrayed Professor Jackson as hijacking the journal, ignoring a graduate student editor, making decisions on his own and tossing aside peer review.

A trove of internal emails, which were included as exhibits in the lawsuit, casts doubt on some of those claims. Far from being a captive project of Professor Jackson, the emails show that members of the journal’s editorial staff were deeply involved in the planning of the issue, and that several colleagues on the faculty at North Texas, including one seen as an ally of Professor Ewell, helped draft its call for papers.

When cries of racism arose, all but one of those colleagues denounced the journal. A graduate student editor publicly claimed to have participated because he “feared retaliation” from Professor Jackson, who was his superior, and said he had essentially agreed with Professor Ewell all along. The emails paint a contradictory picture, as he had described Professor Ewell’s paper as “naive.”

Professor Jackson hired a lawyer who specialized in such cases, Michael Allen, and the lawsuit he filed against his university charges retaliation against his free speech rights. More extraordinary, he sued fellow professors and a graduate student for defamation. That aspect of the lawsuit was a step too far for FIRE, the free speech group, which supported targeting the university but took the view that suing colleagues and students was a tit-for-tat exercise in squelching speech.

“We believe such lawsuits are generally unwise,” the group stated, “and can often chill or target core protected speech.”

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Sharing Surprising Acts of Kindness

Did this happen to you You go about your day and take care of your business. Then suddenly you discover a caring interaction that lifts your spirits, like a couple hugging or a stranger lapping someone else’s hand.

Today the world could use a pick-me-up. Before Valentine’s Day, we asked readers to let us know if they unexpectedly witnessed an act of love or kindness. More than 100 readers wrote love stories from years ago or just recently. Here are a few selected ones that have been edited and compressed for the sake of clarity.

I’ve been walking in my local park more often. My heart was moved by two friends who meet every morning. You’re male, and probably in your 80s. You arrive separately, each with coffee and a dunkin ‘donuts bag. They sit on adjacent benches, six feet apart. One person only starts his coffee when the other is there. You’re not particularly chatty with others in the park – I’ve tried. Your focus is on each other.

– Grace E. Curley, Boston

My 90 pound Bernese Mountain dog, Lilly, has a neurological problem that is causing her to fall. This causes their great distress. My golden retriever Katie came to Lilly after her fall this morning and licked her lips. Then she took a nap and snuggled up against her canine sister.

– Penny Nemzer, Greenwich, Conn.

After months at home, my 2 year old son wasn’t excited about being with strangers. That changed when he started daycare. One of the first friends he made was Dennis, a construction worker who works near his school. Dennis often high-five and a punch before my son lists all the new words he’s learned. He looks forward to this interaction every day and Dennis never disappoints: He is always there with a big, welcoming smile.

– Smita Jayaram, Jersey City, NJ

As the morning bell rang, one of my third grade students walked into the school lobby and held his younger brother’s hand. My student would carefully help his brother take off his mittens and open his jacket. Then he kissed the top of his head tenderly before they parted for their own classrooms. Such a loving and responsible gesture.

– Sheila Bean, Calgary, Alberta

When I was riding the bus years ago, I noticed a young man suddenly stiffen and slide sideways from his seat, having a seizure. The passengers fell silent. We were worried, nervous. The driver sparkled for help and stopped. Then a woman sat next to the young man on the floor. She hummed softly and caressed his hands. We all got off the bus, but the woman and the boy stayed together. Their humming turned to a low song as they waited for his convulsions to stop.

– Tracy Huddleson, Garden Valley, California.

I have a balance problem after surgery on a brain aneurysm affected my ability to do certain things, such as bending and looking sideways. One day while walking around town with a stick, I found that my shoelace was open. I just kept walking. Suddenly a young woman stopped. “Hey,” she said, “your shoelace is open. Here, let me do it in case you trip. “She tied the shoelace, smiled, and walked on.

– Carol Lange, Oxford, England

I was 6 years old and spent the night with my grandparents. While I was sitting on the porch, a couple passed by. The man grabbed one of my grandmother’s tulips from the garden and gave it to his lover. I was outraged and ran into the house yelling that someone had “stolen” one of my grandmother’s flowers. She calmed me down, held my hand and said, “This is what flowers are for.”

– Clare Poth, buffalo

I went to the post office. An elderly, masked couple walked slowly across the street. During the pandemic, people are walking fast, avoiding contact and trying to get their things done quickly. The couple stopped for a moment. They kissed through their masks and walked on. It gave me hope that love and human connection will prevail in these times too.

– Susi Reichenbach, Brussels

We were on the beach at Martha’s Vineyard. The sun was bright coral and hung over the horizon. Just as we were about to start there was a commotion a few meters in front of us. A young man had just proposed to his partner, and everyone around her just turned to see how they were taking the first step into their new life.

– Harriet Bernstein, West Tisbury, Fair.

When I was little, my parents and I often flew to Seattle to visit friends. Once at the airport I saw what I suspected as a husband and wife, hugged, kissed and tearfully said goodbye. That surprised me. My parents had just divorced and had never been overly loving. I think about this couple a lot.

– Margaret Anne Doran, Charlottesville, VA.

I stood in a crowded subway and saw a woman sitting across from me. I’ve had a terrible week. I was exhausted and overwhelmed by emotions. All of a sudden I started crying. It almost never occurred to me that anyone could see me. But the seated woman did and she gave me a handkerchief without saying anything other than giving me a comforting and knowing look.

– Nicole Shaub, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn

My mom traveled to work a lot when I was in high school. She could be gone for weeks. During one of their trips, I went to my parents’ room. My father smelled one of her scarves. Blushing, he put it down and said, “I just missed your mother.”

– Sarah Hughes, Rockville, Md.

As I was driving, something in front of me stopped everyone. There was restlessness and frustrated honking. But as the cars pulled into the next lane in front of me, I saw that a woman in a car repeatedly stopped, got out, took packed lunches with brown bags and handed them out to the many homeless people on the roadside. She offered them entertainment, care, and warmth, and didn’t seem to care about the stunned drivers behind her.

– Sam Alviani, Denver

A few years ago I was driving in the East Village when a biker was stopped by a car. The biker was injured and bleeding and the car drove away. In a matter of seconds, dozens of New Yorkers jumped into action. Several people ran down the street to take down the license plate number. A ring of people surrounded the biker to provide first aid and ripped off sweatshirts to stop the bleeding. In less than two minutes, ambulances and police cars had arrived at the scene. There wasn’t a second of chaos. It was a wonderful ballet of competence and self-confidence. New Yorkers take care of each other.

– Elizabeth Brus, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn

We’re back to school and rehearsing. My students scrupulously follow the guidelines and sing outdoors in masks, 10 feet apart. It’s January in New England, 34 degrees and overcast with an icy breeze.

Two senior high school students, now young men, members of the choir I lead, inseparable for ages and never silent in rehearsal until Zoom muted them, chatting and laughing and unconsciously between the verses of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” danced.

They look like there’s nowhere in the world they’d rather be.

– Scott Halligan, Longmeadow, Mass.

When I went to the drugstore, a high school boy came out with a bouquet of yellow daffodils. Someone shouted from across the street, “Want to be lucky?” He replied: “No, I think I’m in love!” This probably happened 40 years ago and I am still thinking about it.

– Sallie Wolf, Oak Park, Ill.

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Entertainment

Little Island Broadcasts Resident Artists

A long-term stay on Little Island offers theater makers Tina Landau, Michael McElroy and PigPen Theater Co. as well as tap dancer and choreographer Ayodele Casel the opportunity to build the performance arts program of the new public park from scratch.

The selected artists, announced on Wednesday, will tinker, curate and perform for three seasons in the outdoor area currently under construction in Hudson River Park near West 13th Street.

“They all share this feeling of joy and adventure and a real passion for embracing the things that could be possible in this public space,” said Trish Santini, the park’s general manager, in an interview.

The residences were planned before the coronavirus pandemic broke out, but the ongoing performing arts shutdown has made them more meaningful: Little Island plans to start performances in late spring – before actors, dancers and musicians are likely to hit the indoor stages City can return.

“There is a sense of urgency at the moment – artists need to be able to get their work done and help shape how that work manifests itself in a new public space,” said Santini.

The scale and extent of artistic involvement set the Little Island Residences apart from some of their counterparts elsewhere. In addition to directing and performing work, the artists will cultivate relationships with the park’s community partners and organize festivals and other events across multiple seasons.

It’s an opportunity that McElroy, actor, music director, and director of the Broadway Inspirational Voices Choir, is enjoying.

“There is an investment in artists and you can tell by the length of the residence,” he said. “It’s not a one-and-do. It allows me to dream big. “

His plans include creating new musical theater works, organizing a community-based initiative focused on the senior experience, and providing opportunities for other musicians and singer-songwriters.

The other three resident artists also tend to work across borders.

Landau, the Tony Award nominated director of “SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical,” began her career with site-specific work at En Garde Arts, including “Orestes” at Penn Yards and “Stonewall: Night Variations” at Pier 25 on the Hudson River.

Casel has been combining tap dancing and storytelling since 2005 in order to shed more light on the art form with her series “Diary of a Tap Dancer”. And PigPen, whose musical “The Tale of Despereaux” debuted at the Old Globe Theater in 2019, is known for skillfully combining music, film and theater.

The resident artists have already started to design what the park has to offer. You recently helped review the submission of local artists looking to contribute to Little Island’s inaugural season. The selection will be announced in spring.

When completed, Little Island will contain three open-air venues: a 700-seat amphitheater, a garden area for small productions for 200 visitors, and an open space for educational activities.

This flexibility gives the seven members of Landau, McElroy, Casel and PigPen the opportunity to design and present their work. It should also make it easier to conduct appearances safely during the pandemic.

Little Island has overcome several obstacles since it was announced in 2014.

Legal challenges and rising costs caused Barry Diller, the park’s sponsor, to temporarily cancel the company in 2017. It was revived later that year after Governor Andrew M. Cuomo convinced his opponents to drop their lawsuits by agreeing to complete Hudson River Park and protect the local estuary.

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Entertainment

Who Performs Younger Peter and Lara Jean in To All of the Boys 3?

Long before Peter Kavinsky and Lara Jean Covey made college plans, they were kids who grew up together. We don’t get much glimpse into her pre-high school life in the Netflix movies, but in To all boys: always and forever Fans are blessed with a little look back at their middle school days. That sweet moment shows where the story of Peter and LJ began, but who actually played the younger versions of the characters we know and love? It turns out that both actors came from another popular Netflix project: The babysitting club.

Momona Tamada and Rian McCririck stepped in the shoes of Lara Jean and Peter for the final episode of To All the Boys, which premiered on February 12th. “So lucky I got a little role on this project and met the author of this incredible book, movie,” McCririck wrote on Instagram, along with a photo of him and Tamada with writer Jenny Han. When Tamada and McCririck aren’t playing young Covey and Kavinsky, they bring Claudia Kishi and Logan Bruno to life. There is something special about those onscreen projects that start out as books, don’t they? I can’t wait to see more of these two The babysitting clubSeason two is (hopefully) coming to Netflix soon.

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Entertainment

Chick Corea: Hear 12 Important Performances

Chick Corea, the pioneering keyboardist and bandleader who passed away Tuesday at the age of 79, will forever be seen as a key architect of jazz-rock fusion.

It’s a fitting one-line homage. Whether alone, as the leader of the Return to Forever collective or as a companion for giants like Miles Davis (on pioneering albums such as “In a Silent Way” and “Bitches Brew”), Corea has enriched the jazz lexicon and its harmonic language with heaviness merged (and strengthened) rock and funk. But no description, not even so broad, can encompass such a limitless vision.

“After all, formal styles are just an afterthought – a result of the creative impulse,” Corea told the New York Times in 1983. “Nobody sits down and decides to specifically write in a given style.” A style is not something you learn, but something you synthesize. Musicians don’t care whether a particular composition is jazz, pop or classical music. They only care if it’s good music – if it’s challenging and exciting. “

For more than five decades Corea has modified his sound to follow this simple maxim – whims from bebop to free jazz to fusion to contemporary classical music. He recorded almost 90 albums as a band leader or co-leader. And he’s always prioritized melody and musicality over calorie-free showmanship (though few have matched his raw skills on the Fender Rhodes).

Here are 12 of his elite studio and live performances.

Corea and Joe Zawinul form a wall of Rhodes on this creeping, funky cut from Miles Davis ‘”Bitches Brew,” punctuated by John McLaughlin’s ice pick guitars and Davis’ sighing trumpet. The rhythm section is so dense that you can hardly enjoy everything: two electric basses (Dave Holland and Harvey Brooks), two drum sets (Don Alias ​​and Jack DeJohnette) and the congas by Juma Santos. Good thing it takes 14 minutes. The keyboard players switch from question mark to exclamation mark – one moment that hits the groove, the next that plays solo in colorful bursts of noise. “Trust yourself,” Corea said in 2020, was Davis’ philosophy. “When he says, ‘Play what you can’t hear,’ he means, trust your imagination. Trust yourself to say, “I don’t know what I’ll do next, but I’ll only do it because it’s fun. Because I love it. ‘”

Corea sprinkles this nine-minute monster with an electric piano from Larry Coryell’s “Spaces”, a pillar of the early fusion. The arrangement seems to fluctuate between structure and improvisation, straight groove and cosmic freedom. The line-up is the definition of a supergroup: Corea and Coryell as well as John McLaughlin on guitar, Miroslav Vitouš (later from Weather Report) on double bass and Billy Cobham on drums.

“Spain”, the rare fusion melody with a durability as a jazz standard, remains Corea’s characteristic composition – covered by artists like Stevie Wonder and Béla Fleck. The original of Return to Forevers “Light as a Feather” is untouchable: The keyboardist’s hands pirouette happily over Rhodes for almost 10 minutes, his melodious melodies match Flora Purim’s calm coo and Joe Farrell’s fluttering flute. The choir, with its truncated keyboard phrases and enthusiastic hand clapping, is one of the catchiest moments in the history of the merger, along with Weather Reports’ main theme “Birdland”.

Return to Forever was in its infancy with the intensity of most rock bands of the 70s. But it sounded positively massive on his third album, added two new recruits (powerhouse drummer Lenny White and guitarist Bill Connors) and made Stanley Clarke switch to electric bass. The group showed off their full dynamic range on this two-part track from Return to Forever’s “Anthem of the Seventh Galaxy,” which began with Corea’s dreamy Rhodes theme before breaking out into tightly packed funk. Connor’s bloody guitar and Clarke’s distorted bass drift into the realm of psycho-rock – but even when the keyboardist leans back a little, his steady chords remain the ensemble’s heartbeat.

Corea’s acoustic piano enters lush New Age territory in the first half of these tracks of Stanley Clarke’s “Journey to Love,” which features fanfare with Clarke’s Bowed bass and John McLaughlin’s acoustic guitar. The group strikes an intense Latin groove in the second half, with McLaughlin and Corea triggering fireworks. In the liner notes, Clarke dedicated the two-part piece to John Coltrane – and it does justice to the bill.

The final Return to Forever line-up – Corea, Clarke, White and guitarist Al Di Meola – split up after the 1976 album “Romantic Warrior”. But as this funky odyssey proves, they almost went out at the peak. White is considered a composer here, and his fidget drum groove definitely keeps the engine running. But Corea also finds “Sorceress” in its most versatile, keyboard-technical form – weaving in atmospheric pads, straightforward synth leads and Latin American themes on acoustic piano.

Corea has always been influenced by Latin music, and in 2019 he told Billboard that “that flavor is mostly in everything I do”. “It’s part of me. I don’t know how to tell the difference. “But he never went deeper than on his 10th solo LP” My Spanish Heart “. The record reaches its climax with this four-part whiplash suite, which ranges from elegant string and brass instruments to acoustic piano interludes and the tastiest jazz-rock rave-ups on this side of Steely Dan’s “Aja”.

This mini-epic was composed by Corea for the solo debut album “Land of the Midnight Sun” by his band colleague Di Meola and uses his virtuoso lightning bolt – both players sound as if they could drift off their instruments into the sky. But there are many graceful melodies in those five and a half minutes. Halfway through, Corea slips into a gentle chord composition while Di Meola ascends and descends the scales. Corea can even show off his marimba skills and add extra drama to a climatic boom.

Corea and Herbie Hancock, two of the Fusion’s elite keyboardists, embarked on an acoustic duo tour in 1978, and the pair, both veterans of the Miles Davis bands, make amazing use of the two live LPs that resulted from these dates are. A highlight is a 19-minute version of “Homecoming” by “CoreaHancock”, in which your instruments are expertly brought together to form an organism. You move from beauty to ugliness in the twinkling of an eye – halfway the piece turns into a section of guttural grunts, percussive knocks and prepared piano madness.

Like most fusion giants who survived through the mid-80s, Corea took on the colors and contours of the time and formed his Elektric Band with drummer Dave Weckl, bassist John Patitucci and alternating guitarists Scott Henderson and Carlos Rios. The rhythm section runs freely on this neon-coated track from “The Chick Corea Elektric Band”, defined by its twisted, zappa-like rhythms and Corea’s weirdly bright synthesizer.

Corea stretched “Spain” out over the decades like Taffy and kept his interest by reworking it for various settings and band configurations. (“In 1976 or so I got tired of the song,” he told The Atlantic in 2011. “I started playing really perverted versions of it – I would relate to it for just a second, then I would go” on an improvisation . ”) One of his most impressive later interpretations is this acoustic live duet from“ Play ”with singer Bobby McFerrin, who breathes new life into the piece with its divine falsetto, rumbling bass lines and body percussion. For all sublime engineering, the greatest revelation is that these two giants snap into place in perfect symmetry with the main theme.

Corea teamed up with vibraphonist Gary Burton on the Grammy-winning double-CD live LP “The New Crystal Silence,” which is largely based on revised tracks from Corea’s back catalog. The duo had worked together for decades, and the music here feels appropriately natural and alive – even full-blown Zen, like the expanded version of Crystal Silence. The Sydney Symphony Orchestra is recorded with razor-sharp fidelity at the studio level using the trading phrases and counterpoint patterns of Corea and Burton and rounds off the airy conversation.