FROM THE ARCHIVE: The announcer’s voice booms across the frozen harbour. “The fiftieth annual ice canoe race of the Carnaval de Québec will start en trois minutes!”
FROM THE ARCHIVE: Some of the sweetest days of my life have been spent in Milan’s grey winter. My concrete-block apartment offered a spectacular view over the nearby Alps and on a clear day the diamond peaks would reflect crystals of cerulean blue in the morning light.
FROM THE ARCHIVE: According to the reporter on the Virginia City Enterprise, a fellow named Mark Twain, Menken had the effect of “a vast spray of gas jets.” She was “a magnificent spectacle.” Not a star but “a whole constellation.”
FROM THE ARCHIVE: Just hours after arriving in Rome I am already perched at my favorite haunt, Caffe Sant Eustacchio. Located beside the church of the same name, the café serves a special variation on espresso called a Gran Caffe, and it’s worth the extra money they ask. From my table I watch two phantoms trotting casually across the square, looking just as they did in the flesh two years before.
FROM THE ARCHIVE: Summer is over. Distant memory for you, perhaps, but for me, I’m being dragged out of it, my nails scraping furrows in August’s deep green shag carpet. I love the summer because, at last, I can read whatever I want.
FROM THE ARCHIVE: David Foster is forever in blue jeans. It somehow speaks to his Canadian heritage, and perhaps to his musical tastes. His abilities as a producer are pretty much unassailable, but what most folks might not realize is how he recognizes emerging talent and brings it forward.
We’ve heard it a thousand times before: time is precious. With the introduction of a sampling of 2005 Basel timepieces, Gucci takes this over-the-top phrase one step further.
Marco Caprai brings much more than wine to the table.
For something that started out as a way to entertain friends at a backyard bonfire, playing acoustical versions of songs from influential punk band Minor Threat, Jack Johnson has already carved his own mark on our generation.