Subjects of the Realm
Hans Holbein’s life drawings are a tantalizing glumpse into the lusty court of Henry VIII. And courtesy of HRH Queen Elizabeth II, they’re on view at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts.
Hans Holbein’s life drawings are a tantalizing glumpse into the lusty court of Henry VIII. And courtesy of HRH Queen Elizabeth II, they’re on view at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts.
All boxers are wary in the ring, where defeat is only a well-placed punch away. But Donald Curry knows that the real terrors of boxing lie beyond the ropes.
From smoked chicken salad to Kahlua s’mores, our summer picnic sampler has a spread for you.
The fond memories and hard times of a postboom oil heiress.
There are three secrets to Miguel Felix Gallardo’s multimillion-dollar empire of drugs and power. Corruption, corruption, and corruption.
Getty Oil dropped into the market like raw steak into a bay full of sharks: Oil and Honor clarifies the waters. Beverly Lowry keeps the pages turning in her deft and racy roman à clef. The Perfect Sonya.
This former Mr. Flour Bluff High School has what Hollywood wants—ethnic diversity.
We just rate them. You voted for them.
These tall office towers, observatories, and revolving restaurants offer inspiring vies of Texas’ cityscapes.
Fort Worth factions fight over expanding the zoo; Galvestonians derail a tourist trolley; Mattox’s political plans go awry.
Coot sightings, judgment calls, AIDS awareness.
Not much happened at the Legislature, but that doesn’t mean they left no traces. Plus: Houston’s I’m OK, We’re OK Wortham bash, unlikely Texas TV stars, and Frank Lorenzo’s flight to cushier climes.
Readers’ guide.
Back from the Gulf and along its coastal bend, picture-book towns offer scenes that have nearly vanished from urban Texas, not to mention the most confusing sign, the best noontime stop, and the most Shakespearean site.
While Roxanne is steeped in friendliness, Summer Heat is full of humid clichés; Personal Services is too pleased with itself, but The Big Easy has a hang-loose, big-spender quality.
Mary Jane Johnson and Timothy Jenkins live in Amarillo, but they’re at home in the world’s great opera houses.
Getting ahead.
He was one tycoon who enjoyed the hell out of his money.
For centuries, scientists have searched for the answers to the mystery of Nosehenge. Now—for the first time—the startling truth.
Once San Antonio’s elite took pride in their support of the city’s fine symphony. When the cream of that elite, the Symphony Society board, abruptly canceled the upcoming season, it was time for some soul-searching
Heads turn when he passes. He’s on half of Houston’s A-party list. Rock singer? Investment banker? Nope. Meet Father Jeffrey Walker, Episcopal priest.
In the early eighties, some Dallas savings and loans reaped profits in real estate investments while land was flipped, appraisals were inflated, and property was developed. Now the land deals have flopped, property values are deflated, and there are empty buildings all over town. And some S&Ls are broke
Like it or not, it’s time to start behaving yourself.
Poor school districts strike it rich; nursing homes want more money too; the savings and loans aren’t banking on Bill Clements; a veto for political buttons.
Prescribing medical remedies; pinching Lone Star pennies; debating the future of a university.
Texas oil patchers bounce back; Houston artist Staley paints the art crowd; goat-gland genius Brinkley’s mansion casts its quirky spell. Plus: Caroline Schoellkopf’s marital woes, Tammy Faye Bakker’s impersonators, and Nancy Negley Wellin’s prodigal daughter.
Screen play.
From the harsh landscape of the Permian Basin, whose residents find their faith in free enterprise tested by hard times; to the subtropical city of San Antonio, whose Hispanic citizens have gone gaga over Goyo-Goyo; into deepest South Texas, where the old times of the Parr machine are not forgotten.
Extreme Prejudice trips over its bloody missteps; Heaven climbs a staircase to the stars; Prick Up Your Ears delivers crisp witticisms and cruisy pickups; Ishtar completely lacks l’amour.
Equipped with only his passion for current events and the simple desire to amuse, Berke Breathed won himself the highest honor in his trade.
Vibraharpist Charlie Shoemake keeps so busy in L.A. that he seldom strays back to his home state. Fortunately, we can hear him on new recordings.
It’s best accessorized with a shovel, a pail, and a beach blanket.
The governor’s unbalanced budget.
The Menil Collection has received so much attention that its opening this month may seem anticlimactic. The only unknown is what the director plans to do with it all.
Try North America’s best travel bargain—the Copper Canyon train ride. For $9 you can see Indians who run down deer on foot, Mennonites who speak German, and the most spectacular scenery in Mexico.
Highly partisan justices are at the center of the Supreme Court scandal.
Should a judge’s friendships survive his election to the Supreme Court of Texas?
In the late seventies, celebrated pianist Van Cliburn inexplicably disappeared from public life. No tortured artist in hiding, Cliburn is having the time of his life sitting around his Fort Worth mansion in his bathrobe.
When Randall Adams was sentenced to death ten years ago, the Dallas community thought a cop killing had been put to rest. But it hasn’t.
If it fits on your dashboard, you can take it with you.
A crusty, cranky, curmudgeonly species of bird is proliferating within our borders. And maybe that’s good.
Hobby may be a Hartbeat from the president; the feds dump nuclear-waste workers on the Panhandle; Cisneros’ future remains rosy; Kath Whitmire’s doesn’t.
Getting an airline off the ground; achieving your children’s education; cruising through adolescence; rambling through the Valley.
Houston ignores its AIDS crisis, Dallas restaurant gossips chew over hard times, San Antonio headline writers get their due. Plus: Chuck Robb’s blooper, Larry McMurtry’s sniffles, and Shearn Moody’s new taste in nightlife.
An initial foray.
A good record store is more than just a supermarket of sound.
Travels through the Trans-Pecos—splendor in the Big Bend, the greening of the Alpine grasslands, today’s version of profitable ranching, escape from the rat race in South Brewster County, innkeeping Indians in Van Horn—to El Paso, way out on the edge of Texas.
Everyone in Raising Arizona has a libido for the ugly, and the guys in Tin Men can’t see past their hood ornaments; Hollywood Shuffle loses its hip mind; Street Smart has a crazed, electric menace.
My father’s Panhandle grape patch gives him a new cash crop and a new pride as a farmer.
Dallas on the couch.