Music

Tanowitz’s new dance, made with the painter Sarah Crowner and the composer Caroline Shaw, premieres at the Fisher Center at Bard College.What exactly is the pastoral, that tradition from about Virgil to Wendell Berry and beyond that devotes itself to nature? And can it even exist in a honking, smoggy metropolis?The choreographer Pam Tanowitz welcomes questions like these in her latest work, “Pastoral,” which premieres on Friday at the Fisher Center at Bard College. In her signature blend of classical ballet and free-form modern dance, it is set to a reworking of Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony, nicknamed the “Pastoral,” by the composer Caroline Shaw, with décor by the painter Sarah Crowner that puts nature front and center.All three of these artists live in New York City, and while “Pastoral” draws from Beethoven in name, it pulls equally from their daily work and lives. It is also, for a dance, uncommonly engaged with the vocabulary of visual art. One late spring morning, with the fog low and cow daisies high in the Hudson Valley, Tanowitz strode into rehearsal with a book under her arm of Nicolas Poussin, the 17th-century French painter of allegorical and historical scenes.“We have two tableaus in this dance,” Tanowitz said, describing scenes in which her dancers arrange themselves into a particular formation and hold it, facing the audience. “And this is what I want those moments to feel like,” she said, flipping to Poussin’s “A Dance to the Music of Time.”From left, the artist Sarah Crowner, the composer Caroline Shaw and Tanowitz.Lauren Lancaster for The New York TimesIn that painting, four youthful figures frolic in a hillside clearing. They are mid-hop, the hands joined into a maypole ring, backs to one another, togas billowing in colors not too far from the lavenders and combinations evoking pink lemonade and smoked salmon that are used by Reid Bartelme, the costumer for “Pastoral.”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

Taking the stage in a muscled power pose is a declaration of frontwoman confidence. And Rhian Teasdale is gleaming with it.When her band Wet Leg played at Market Hotel in Brooklyn this spring, she strode up in a dingy undershirt and some glorified tighty-whities, and flexed her biceps at the crowd — a stance somewhere between bodybuilder and Wonder Woman.Launching into the come-at-me lyrics of “Catch These Fists,” the pulsing lead single from the band’s upcoming album — “I don’t want your love, I just wanna fight” the chorus snarls — Teasdale, the rhythm guitarist, dropped her custom-made, bubble gum pink instrument, and flashed her guns again. Beside her, Hester Chambers, the college friend she started the band with, was playing lead guitar with her back to the audience (her version of a power move). When they got into “Chaise Longue,” the underground hit that put them on the map, they were both dancing and grinning.Since Wet Leg emerged three years ago, its trajectory into indie-rock stardom has been a series of almost absurd feats. Pals from the Isle of Wight, England — a far reach from a musical hot spot — the group saw its self-titled debut LP explode, a chart-topper in the United Kingdom that also earned two Grammys. “Chaise Longue,” perhaps history’s catchiest track about a grandfather’s upholstered chair, had vocal fans in Elton John, Lorde and Dave Grohl; seemingly overnight, Wet Leg ascended from dingy clubs to stadiums, opening for Foo Fighters and Harry Styles.This is a heady place to activate a sophomore album, “Moisturizer,” out July 11. Especially because, unlike the debut, which was mostly written by Teasdale and Chambers, the latest effort is the work of a five-piece — including Henry Holmes, the drummer; Ellis Durand, the bassist; and the multi-instrumentalist Joshua Mobaraki, who is also Chambers’s boyfriend.And though Chambers, the lead guitarist, is still a full-fledged member of the group, she has stepped back from the sort of promotion she did for the first album, when the two women were featured as soft-spoken musical partners in matching cottagecore dresses. They were billed as a duo, and now, “we’re definitely a band,” Teasdale said decisively.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 musician born David Evans was one of more than 7,500 people who became citizens in a series of ceremonies in southwest Ireland this week.The Edge, the U2 guitarist known for his omnipresent black beanie and his chiming, echoey sound, became an Irish citizen this week. It only took him 62 years.“I’m a little tardy on the paperwork,” the English-born musician, whose real name is David Evans, told reporters at the ceremony on Monday. “I’ve been living in Ireland now since I was 1 year old, but the time is right and I couldn’t be more proud of my country for all that it represents and all that it’s doing.”A representative for U2 did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Wednesday.More than 7,500 people were granted citizenship in a series of ceremonies Monday and Tuesday in Killarney in County Kerry, nearly 200 miles southwest of Dublin, according to the Irish government. Applicants from over 140 countries made a declaration of fidelity and loyalty to the state. Since 2011, more than 200,000 people have received Irish citizenship.Evans, 63, was born in Essex to Welsh parents and moved to Ireland as a young child.The band formed in 1976 when Larry Mullen Jr. tacked a “musicians wanted” ad to a bulletin board in Dublin, according to the band’s website. The group — Bono, the Edge, Adam Clayton (bass) and Mullen (drums), then all teenagers — practiced in Mullen’s kitchen.U2 became perhaps the most recognizable and successful rock group from Ireland and is considered by many fans there to be something of a national treasure. At the citizenship ceremony, Evans said that Ireland was showing “real leadership” on the world stage and that his becoming a citizen couldn’t have come at a better moment. “I have always felt Irish,” he told reporters, saying he was happy “to be in even deeper connection with my homeland.”Evans said the application process took a couple of years but was ultimately straightforward.“Honestly there were many moments in the past when I could have done it, with just the form to be filled out, but I’m happy it’s now,” he said. “It feels more significant, it feels more meaningful.” More

A guitarist and songwriter, he ditched glam rock at its peak and scored with meatier stadium-rock anthems like “Can’t Get Enough” and “Feel Like Making Love.”Mick Ralphs, a British guitarist and songwriter who glittered at the peak of glam rock with Mott the Hoople before joining forces with the vocalist Paul Rodgers to form Bad Company, the hard-rock quartet that rode high in the feathered-hair 1970s with anthems like “Can’t Get Enough” and “Rock ’n’ Roll Fantasy,” has died. He was 81.His death was announced on Monday in a statement on the official Bad Company site, which noted that he had suffered a stroke days after his final performance with the group in October 2016 and had remained bedridden until his death. The statement did not say where or when he had died, or give a specific cause.Bad Company, scheduled to be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in November, combined muscular stadium rock with infectious hooks to become one of the most commercially successful groups of its era.Bad Company in 1973, from left: Boz Burrell, Paul Rodgers, Mr. Ralphs and Simon Kirke.Gems/Redferns, via Getty ImagesFormed in 1973, the group originally consisted of Mr. Ralphs (late of Mott the Hoople, known for the 1972 hit “All the Young Dudes”); Mr. Rodgers and the drummer Simon Kirke, both previously of Free, whose arena-shaking “All Right Now” was a No. 4 hit in 1970; and the bassist Boz Burrell, a veteran of King Crimson.Bad Company became an FM radio force. It sold more than a million copies of its first three albums, starting with its 1974 debut, called simply “Bad Company,” which hit No. 1 on the Billboard 200 and featured “Can’t Get Enough,” a bluesy thumper written by Mr. Ralphs that soared to No. 5 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart.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

Marcia Resnick, a fine arts photographer who in the late 1970s pivoted from conceptual work to capture her febrile milieu, New York City’s downtown demimonde, in a series of intimate portraits, mostly of men, including the last studio photos taken of John Belushi, died on Wednesday in Manhattan. She was 74.The cause of death, at a hospice facility, was lung cancer, her sister, Janice Hahn, said.New York City was lurching out of its fiscal crisis as Ms. Resnick began careening through Manhattan’s after-hours spots, notably Max’s Kansas City, CBGB and the Mudd Club. She was living the life, to be sure, but also scouting for subjects.Despite her madcap persona and punk-Lolita uniform — pleated schoolgirl skirts, thigh-high stockings and combat boots, beribboned pigtails and kohl-smudged eyes — she was deadly serious about her craft and her mission. Ms. Resnick was a skilled, CalArts-trained photographer determined to capture the scene that was swirling around her.Ms. Resnick’s 1979 photograph of Chris Stein and Debbie Harry, sprawled on a bed in their Manhattan apartment.Marcia Resnick/Getty ImagesShe photographed Debbie Harry and Chris Stein of the band Blondie sprawled on their bed in their 58th Street penthouse, looking like children at a sleepover.She found the infamous lawyer Roy Cohn and Steve Rubell, the Studio 54 impresario, slumped on a sofa at the Mudd Club after sharing a quaalude; in her photo, Mr. Cohn radiates malevolence, while Mr. Rubell, his head resting on the other man’s shoulder, looks joyful and beatific.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

After 28 days of testimony in the federal sex-trafficking and racketeering trial, both sides rested. The music mogul did not take the stand.Federal prosecutors and defense lawyers rested their cases at Sean Combs’s sex-trafficking and racketeering conspiracy trial on Tuesday, and the music mogul announced that he would not be testifying in his own defense.After six weeks of letting his lawyers speak for him, Mr. Combs stood up at the defense table and addressed the court, out of the presence of jurors.Asked by the judge, Arun Subramanian, how he was doing, Mr. Combs said, “I’m doing great, how are you, your honor?” and quickly added, “I wanted to tell you, thank you, you’re doing an excellent job.”Mr. Combs, wearing a brown sweater and a white collared shirt, told the judge he had discussed the issue “thoroughly” with his lawyers, and then confirmed that he had decided not to testify.“That is solely my decision,” Mr. Combs said, leaning in to speak into the microphone with his hands resting on the defense table. He clarified that the decision was made “with my lawyers.”Prosecutors have argued that Mr. Combs coerced two women into participating in drug-fueled sex marathons with male escorts that he directed, masturbated during and sometimes filmed. Over 28 days of testimony at Federal District Court in Lower Manhattan, government attorneys sought to establish a pattern of criminal activity by Mr. Combs and an inner circle of employees, walking the jury through allegations of kidnapping, arson, drug violations and forced labor.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

Reneé Rapp, Ethel Cain, Suzy Clue and more from prospects experimenting with undeniably modern modes while recognizing their place in the Pop Girl lineage.Reneé RappMario Anzuoni/ReutersDear listeners,This is Joe from The Times’s music team, once again filling in for Lindsay, a.k.a. taking any opportunity to foist my taste onto all of you.I’ve been thinking, as I often do, about the nature of stardom and whether its essential ingredients are becoming more scarce, or have long since dried up. Despite coalescing conventional wisdom, I’m invested, personally and professionally, in the idea that they have not, and that many of our most promising young musicians still possess an ineffable magnetism and some amazing hooks, even if they may never reach the heights of their monoculture forebears.Online, where music fandom gets messy but also meaty, the idea of the Pop Girls (and especially the Main Pop Girls) looms large. This constantly regenerating hierarchy includes — arguably; all of this is arguable and should be argued — the mostly emeritus legends (Madonna, Mariah, Britney), the modern imperialists (Beyoncé, Taylor, Ariana) and the lame duck in-betweeners (Katy, Gaga, Rihanna). Endless debates can be had about who fits where, and what that means for Billie, Cardi, Dua, Charli and anyone else who can get by with a single name.In the last few years especially, the field has blown open: Even the niches have niches and one person’s pop queen can be another’s “who?” (Justice for Rosalía, etc.) Even as Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan have solidified their footing, not just on the internet but also the radio, streaming and IRL in concert, there are infinite iterating tiers of singers who are alternately reverent, irreverent, brash, manufactured, original and otherwise.These eight new songs are my summer picks from the current class of hot prospects, all of whom are doing something I see as undeniably modern, while also recognizing their place in the Pop Girl lineage, defined most broadly.Your money’s not coming with you to heaven,JoeWe 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

Unlike most countries, Germany has a network of minor but generously subsidized theaters whose vitality is remarkable, and unmatched.Near the end of Judith Weir’s opera “Miss Fortune,” there is an uncanny duet between the main character, Tina, and her fate. Tina is sung by a soprano, and Fate by a countertenor. Although their music is similar, the difference in their vocal timbres creates an unsettling clash.At a recent production of “Miss Fortune” that I attended at the Theater für Niedersachsen in Hildesheim, a small city in northern Germany, that scene had a memorable charge. Its strange lyricism was undercut by the humor of Tina telling her destiny to butt out as one might set boundaries with a problematic ex.It was a great operatic moment, and it played to a sparse audience in a city of just over 100,000 people.During the past season, Germany’s leading opera houses — in Berlin and Munich, in Stuttgart and Hamburg — offered largely familiar though well-rendered pleasures, along with a handful of new works by marquee artists in contemporary music. But, unlike almost any other country in the world, Germany also has a large network of smaller professional opera houses that step up, offering modernist masterpieces, overlooked rarities and work from this century. (According to the German Music Information Center, the country has 83 institutions presenting opera and music theater.)In addition to the Theater für Niedersachsen, I traveled to opera houses in Darmstadt, Dessau-Rosslau, Lübeck, Magdeburg, Bielefeld and Kassel throughout the season. Although the performances were often at a lower technical level than in the country’s opera capitals — the orchestral playing less polished, the singing rougher, the stagings and acting more beholden to clichés — they also showed a scene whose vitality remains unmatched, thanks to generous but increasingly precarious government funding.Germany’s smaller opera houses allow up-and-coming artists to hone their craft, giving onstage experience to generations of performers. Sonja Isabel Reuter, who gave an assured interpretation of Tina in “Miss Fortune,” is Theater für Niedersachsen’s only ensemble soprano. Last season, she sang four completely different vocal roles in the space of a week: Mimi from “La Bohème,” two different operetta characters and the solo soprano part in Dvorak’s cantata “The Specter’s Bride.” Her three seasons at the house, she said in a phone interview, “were like a crash course in how to be an opera singer.”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