A judge declined to release Duane Keith Davis, whose trial is scheduled for March, after a dispute over the source of the bail funds.A judge in Nevada declined on Tuesday to release a man who was charged with the murder of the rapper Tupac Shakur after expressing concern that the money provided to bail him out from jail could be connected to a possible deal to tell his story in a TV series.The man, Duane Keith Davis, known as Keffe D, has said for years that he was a critical player in the gang-orchestrated shooting of the rapper, drawing scrutiny from prosecutors nearly three decades after the killing. A grand jury indicted Mr. Davis on one count of murder with use of a deadly weapon last year.Mr. Davis has pleaded not guilty, and his lawyer has said that those admissions of responsibility — which he made in a memoir and in videotaped interviews — were “for entertainment purposes” under the belief that he had been granted immunity from prosecution.Judge Carli Kierny of the Eighth Judicial District Court in Nevada declined to release Mr. Davis after a dispute over the source of the funds that would have been used for bail.Prosecutors had opposed his release, pointing to an interview on YouTube in which the man who posted the bail bond premium of about $112,000 said he would help out only if Mr. Davis agreed to do a TV series with him.“This is him getting paid from his retelling of his criminal past,” Binu Palal, one of the prosecutors overseeing the case, said at a court hearing in June.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

What’s behind the strange emphasis on childlessness in “Die Frau ohne Schatten,” the Strauss-Hofmannsthal opera now at the Met? Look to the ancients.Although the music of “Die Frau ohne Schatten” (“The Woman Without a Shadow”) is often transcendentally beautiful, it is among the least performed of the Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannsthal operas at the Metropolitan Opera. Its relatively rare appearance on the Met stage is, I believe, in large part because of its weird, somewhat incomprehensible, and to some contemporary tastes offensive, libretto. The opera compounds the felony by being (at over four hours) the longest of all the Strauss-Hofmannsthal operas. Only “Der Rosenkavalier” comes close, but as “Rosenkavalier” is the best loved of all the pair’s operas, the length of “Frau” cannot be the only culprit.It’s the libretto. Any summary immediately brings to mind Anna Russell’s satire on the convoluted plot of Wagner’s “Der Ring des Nibelungen,” which she excused by remarking, “But that’s the beauty of Grand Opera: you can do anything so long as you sing it.”The “Frau” libretto concerns the Empress, the daughter of the invisible spirit god Keikobad and a mortal woman, who has married the Emperor (a mortal man) but cannot bear children. The sign of her defining lack is that she has no shadow; because she is part spirit, she doesn’t have enough substance to generate a shadow or a child.Many Strauss aficionados have long been uncomfortable with the opera’s strange emphasis on childlessness. But the return of “Die Frau” to the Met’s stage (through Dec. 19) comes at a fraught moment when audiences are dealing with abortion and transgender issues, not to mention concerns over a declining birthrate. They might be apt to criticize it for what they see as a natalist stance. Men and women, however, have been caught up in the convoluted dance of mortality and fertility since the dawn of history, and “Frau” draws upon that tradition, allowing us to see our present preoccupations in both the ancient wisdom and the ancient folly that still bedevil us.Mortality and fertility become real issues when the Empress learns that unless she gets a shadow within three days, her father, the god, will turn her husband, the Emperor, to stone. So she goes to the world of mortals to try to buy a shadow from the malcontented wife of a very nice but very poor man who wants children. He is named Barak, and he’s a dyer, which can be heard, for those listening in English translation, as “a dier,” one who dies, which is the defining characteristic of the dyer and his wife.Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss in 1912. Their opera “Die Frau ohne Schatten” premiered in 1919, in the wreckage of World War I.Fine Art/Heritage Images, via Getty ImagesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

He was a producer and club D.J. who helped rappers find their voices and fortunes, and who later became known as a raconteur of hip-hop history.Antonio Franklin, known as DJ Clark Kent, a widely respected hip-hop insider for four decades who had influential relationships with many leading rappers, died on Thursday at his home in Greenbrook, a township in northern New Jersey. He was 58. The cause was colon cancer, his wife, Kesha (Vernon) Franklin, said.Mr. Franklin’s career followed the trajectory of hip-hop itself. He entered the scene just as it was taking shape, in New York in the 1980s, and he reached prime time when rap itself did, in the mid-90s. After being a club D.J. for years, he moved on to work as a producer and took jobs with Atlantic Records and Motown.In 1995, he produced a rap classic — and his first hit song — with “Player’s Anthem” by Junior M.A.F.I.A., a group formed by the Notorious B.I.G., who also appeared on the track. The song became a breakout single for the group and introduced Lil’ Kim to the international hip-hop audience.The next year, he produced three songs on Jay-Z’s debut album, “Reasonable Doubt.” His most noteworthy contributions were to the song “Brooklyn’s Finest.” Mr. Franklin provided the vocals for the hook, and he suggested to Jay-Z and his manager, Damon Dash, that they include Notorious B.I.G. on the track. The two somewhat hesitantly agreed — without realizing that Mr. Franklin had already asked Notorious B.I.G. to wait downstairs. The collaboration took place instantly.That kind of behind-the-scenes orchestration was ordinary for Mr. Franklin. In 1998, he saw a young man who went by Shyne freestyling in a barbershop, then introduced him to Sean “Puff Daddy” Combs, who signed him to a record deal on the spot.“I practically knew every rapper before they made their records,” Mr. Franklin told the pop culture publication Complex. “They wanted to be familiar with the D.J.s and what was happening in hip-hop. I was happening in hip-hop.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

The singer wrote on Instagram that she is “appalled and embarrassed.”Billie Eilish, the 19-year-old Grammy-winning singer-songwriter, apologized on Monday after a years-old clip of her lip-syncing an anti-Asian slur surfaced on social media.“i mouthed a word from a song that at the time i didn’t know was a derogatory term used against members of the asian community. i am appalled and embarrassed,” Ms. Eilish wrote in an apology posted to her Instagram story. She wrote, “the fact is that it was hurtful. and for that i am sorry.” Ms. Eilish added that she was “13 or 14” when the video was taken.The clip was shared earlier this month in a TikTok video posted by a user named Lena. The video featured Ms. Eilish mouthing along to the song “Fish,” by Tyler, the Creator, which includes a derogatory term for Asian people in its lyrics.The TikTok video also showed Ms. Eilish speaking in what many viewers interpreted as a derogatory, mock Asian accent. The post went viral, and many of Ms. Eilish’s fans demanded a response.Ms. Eilish posted the apology to her Instagram story.In her Instagram story, the singer said that she was “speaking in a silly gibberish made up voice,” something she has done since childhood when talking to pets, friends and family. Ms. Eilish added that it was “in NO way an imitation of anyone or any language, accent, or culture in the SLIGHTEST. anyone who knows me has seen me goofing around with voices my whole life.”In a follow-up video, Lena, the TikTok user, said of Ms. Eilish’s apology: “she finally addressed this !!!” Lena added that she was “glad” and that it was “understandable and good she finally said something.”The pandemic has fueled a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes, and the consciousness surrounding anti-Asian sentiment has been heightened. Influencers, civil rights organizations and nonprofits have started public awareness campaigns and denounced racist incidents. President Biden recently signed a bill to address the increase in assaults.Celebrities in particular are under greater scrutiny for past actions and are expected to use their platforms for social good. Ms. Eilish ended her apology on this note, saying “i not only believe in, but have always worked hard to use my platform to fight for inclusion, kindness, tolerance, equity and equality.” More

A folk troubadour with an eclectic style, he built a devoted following for his songs about love, death, drinking and a particularly sad werewolf.Michael Hurley, a singer and songwriter whose music — an idiosyncratic kind of folk mixed with a variety of other styles — made him a revered elder to younger artists like Cat Power, Devendra Banhart and the band Yo La Tengo, died on April 1 in Portland, Ore. He was 83.Mr. Hurley’s family announced the death but did not specify the cause.Mr. Hurley was visibly ill during his final shows — two on March 28 and 29 in Knoxville, Tenn., as part of the Big Ears Festival, and the third on March 31 in Asheville, N.C. — before flying back to Portland, said Regina Greene, the booking agent for his Southeast shows.Mr. Hurley stopped breathing on the ride to his home in rural Brownsmead, Ore., and after his driver tried to revive him, he died in the ambulance taking him to a hospital, said Eric Isaacson, the owner of Mississippi Records, one of several labels Mr. Hurley recorded for over the years.For more than 60 years, Mr. Hurley performed (somewhat under the radar and usually in intimate spots) and recorded (often at home on his reel-to-reel tape recorder) in a gentle, twangy and worldly voice, accompanied by his guitar and sometimes nothing else. He wrote and sang about subjects as diverse as love, drinking (tea and wine), the human digestive system and a weeping werewolf.“I never thought of a career in music,” he told The New York Times in 2021. “What I do is goof off — and try to get away with it.”At some point he adopted a nickname, Snock, which he used on album covers and elsewhere.“His songs are timeless; you can’t tell if they were written in the 1400s or now,” said Mr. Isaacson, whose label reissued some of Mr. Hurley’s old albums as well as releasing some newer ones. He added: “He’d perform a song that I hadn’t heard, and I’d ask, ‘What’s that, an old English air?’ and he’d say, ‘No, I wrote it last night.’”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More