Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Chronicle's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query. You can also try a Basic search
11 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
Located in East Durham, the Golden Belt is a community filled with retailers, restaurants, office spaces and notably: artists. A plethora of world class artists spanning all mediums work in the Golden Belt Warehouse Studios — photographers, weavers, metalsmiths and whatnot.
“Did you hear?” asked my friend, their voice drenched with enough solemnity to suggest an asteroid might be inbound, “that a new restaurant opened in the kitchen above Il Forno.”
Please stop and reread the title.
Just 63 years ago and less than an hour drive away from Duke, four college freshmen — Ezell Blair Jr. (now Jibreel Khazan), David Richmond, Franklin McCain and Joseph McNeil — from then Agricultural and Technical College of North Carolina (now North Carolina A&T State University) began a sit-in protest at a Greensboro lunch counter. Their movement proliferated like wildfire, and history illustrates the freshmen, known as “the Greensboro Four,” as civil rights heroes.
This evening, Dec. 7, award-winning novelist Marlon James will visit the Rubenstein Arts Center for a reading and book signing.
See the stage. As the ceiling lights dim, the smatterings of chatter fizzles out, and Page Auditorium is brought to a silent twilight. On stage, a translucent screen like a shrouded portal. A lone red dot appears, pulsing. From looming speakers, soft white noise begins growing into a rhythmic hum. Another red dot joins, pulsing. The rhythm of the music follows. Another red light. Then another. Then another. Then thousands populate the screen, the hum crescendoing, mesmerizing the audience, louder, louder, louder. The screen is a colony of red lights, flowing, dancing, whorling, in randomness. Then BOOM. Silence. The lone performer jogs to center stage, the red lights suspended, frozen, on the translucent screen before her and the backdrop behind. The music relaxes. Audience shoulders untense. Soft white light begins to sweep across the screen, left-to-right, like oceanic currents. And the performer, slowly, begins to command the light.
On a Percy-Jackson-quest-type-of-beat, with a prophecy from my oracles (aka editors), I listened to 24 hours of assorted podcasting in one week, seeking insights on the burgeoning breed of entertainment media.
On Instagram, peruse @mezcaltionc. You notice your eyes opening wide and your stomach growling in excitement. A colony of colorful tacos. Vibrant supersized margaritas. Smiling faces. In an age of digital representation, Mezcalito, the highly anticipated new Durham eatery, is distinguishable. Commanding this profile is Favian Miranda, an owner and general manager of the fifth location in the Mezcalito group. In downtown Durham, on an upcoming Ramseur Street already home to the steadfast Ponysaurus Brewing Co. and the exciting new Krill Restaurant, I sat down with Miranda to chat about authenticity, ambiance, and more.
Picture it now: you are strolling back from French Science at 4:50 p.m. on a Friday. The final class of your week, a tinge of pride flutters your heart for attending this excruciatingly dry recitation, unlike the previous couple weeks. The sky epitomizes fall, clear and sunny, the air crisp and delicious, and a soft westerly combs your hair and flutters red, brown and orange leaves about. One lands to rest on the shoulder of your crew neck. Rounding BC Plaza, you hear them before you see them. A chorus of polymer wheels hitting concrete at angles and bounces. The grunt of an ankle catching or a body tumbling. You may wish not to admit it but you certainly look. Maybe a beat long. And perhaps you even watch the display for a moment or several, if the green tables appear comfortable enough to compose last minute emails before the weekend’s festivities.
Just five years ago, I was five years younger, coasting on the relatively painless winds of high school and serving as the ardent prime minister of the Hallmark Hater Club. My uncomplicated existence completely rejected the well-defined clichés ubiquitous in the Hallmark cinematic universe. Sappy and predictable, the young successful professional returns from the unnamed big city to her quaint hometown just in time for the holidays, but still a bit hesitant on opening that can of nostalgia. Fortunately, the high school hunk of yore is still around and single (yay!), and the two are only a meet cute away from a happily ever after.
Four years ago, classic rock fans rejoiced in the debut of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” the blockbuster film rendering the breakthrough, achievement and dominance of rockstar Freddie Mercury and 70s juggernaut Queen. “Rhapsody” championed the box office and awards alike, garnering adoration from critics and fans, domestic and worldwide. It became the highest grossing biographical picture of all time, finishing in box office just a hairsbreadth from the billion dollar threshold. “Rhapsody” shattered and reset the biopic market, opening eyes to the earning potential of this genre.
