Arts Paper
As the editorially independent arm of The Arts Council of Greater New Haven, the Arts Paper seeks to celebrate, explore, and investigate the fine, visual, performing and culinary arts in and around New Haven.
Read about it here from our colleagues at the New Haven Independent!
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Read about it from our colleagues at the New Haven Independent!
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Read about it from our partners at the New Haven Independent!
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Read about it from our colleagues and content partners at the New Haven Independent!
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“I love everyone in this room, even if I don’t know you, because this is a room full of love,” Ben Mikula of the Alpaca Gnomes told the crowd right before the last song of the set he was playing with two other members of his band at Pacific Standard Tavern on Sunday afternoon. “I’m so glad to see people helping each other.”
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We’re on a sunlit stretch of a city block. From the architecture it could be any city center south of the United States, or someplace in Europe. That the building in the foreground is worn down helps narrow it down. But not as much as the subjects. There’s a policeman on the corner, looking vigilant. To his left, a group of musicians, guitars, shakers, an upright.
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Read about the winners in the New Haven Independent and here in The Arts Paper.
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When Eric Desatnik founded the Environmental Film Festival at Yale (EFFY) ten years ago, environmental documentary filmmakers still had to lay the groundwork for why the general public should care about broad issues like climate change and food sustainability.
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On Sunday at 1:30 p.m., on the corner of College and Chapel, before New Haven’s annual St. Patrick’s Day parade arrived, a small crowd of people were banging on the outside of a port-a-john and screaming while someone else was in there...continue reading in the New Haven Independent.
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A fungus floats on a flat black background. Below it are a ball and an infinite loop of yarn. How are they connected?
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“Lantern Hill” begins with the drone of a guitar, a cello shaking out an eerie melody in its upper register. It’s somehow tense and peaceful at the same time. It then settles into a swinging melody that still doesn’t quite lose the paradox from the song’s opening minute. It feels old as the hills, but still unsettled. It’s there in a well-chosen note, an atmospheric sound hovering in the background. It’s there in the instruments themselves, the guitar and cello in the same range, weaving in and out of each other, making a big sound. And it’s the opening number from Pyrrhotite, the latest release from New Haven’s own Swamp Yankee....continue reading in the New Haven Independent.
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There is so much I want to tell you about my recent trip to the world of Wakanda ... or rather a special Saturday showing and celebration in New Haven of the highly anticipated new film Black Panther.
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At first glance, maybe it’s an island on a clear day, reflected in still water. But then you see that no water is that still. The line between the halves is a little too sharp. Then you see that the bottom half isn’t the same as the top half. They’re not halves at all. It’s a land mass floating in midair.
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New Haven artist Katro Storm, a master mark-maker, has turned a large gallery space into a temporary studio where visitors can witness his monumental painting challenge in progress — creating 21 (sizable) portraits in 21 days — at the Ely Center of Contemporary Art on Trumbull Street. Read more from David Sepulveda at the New Haven Independent.
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Bree Newsome at Yale. Markeshia Ricks for the New Haven Independent.
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Live music for all ages is returning to Space and Outer Space, after a brief intermission.
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Children whose families fled the aftermath of Hurricane Maria were welcomed as part of a new family Saturday — the New Haven family.
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“My ribcage is a hothouse harboring a bloom next to you,” Elizabeth Trojanowski sings on “Still Water,” the opening song to Pageant Dove’s recently released self-titled EP. An acoustic guitar lays down a bluesy flat-seven chord to anchor the twists in the melody, but then goes elsewhere, sounding not quite settled, even when a string section joins in. When the drums emerge, we feel like we’re somewhere. But where is it?
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Thabisa strolled from the back of Kehler Liddell Gallery in Westville with a megaphone in her hand, already singing. The people in the audience, seated on the gallery floor — many on blankets and pillows — fell quiet as soon as they heard her voice...
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