Behind the Purple Page
Texas writers of historical romances spice up the old boy- meets-girl plot with more than a pinch of passion.
Texas writers of historical romances spice up the old boy- meets-girl plot with more than a pinch of passion.
An Alley Theatre world premiere, To Grandmother’s House We Go was a play about family foibles that really hit home.
From pig pancreas pills to pyramid power ice trays, the cure-alls of these unorthodox healers are aimed at getting you back on the right wavelength.
What is a man to his boys? Fiend, antagonist, taskmaster, hugger, educator, realist—put them all together, they spell “father.”
Houston’s first jazz festival turned Miller Theatre into a hothouse of sound.
Sword-wielding samurai clash in Kagemusha, Akira Kurosawa’s rousing saga of clan wars in sixteenth-century Japan. The Stunt Man goes out on a limb—and falls off. It’s My Turn is a feminist film that’s funny.
Beef is king at Cattlemen’s in Fort Worth; food fit for a rajah is yours at Houston’s Taj Mahal.
These recordings of Christmas carols and cantatas will help ye rest merry.
Century-old Antioch Baptist shouts its message over the sky-high rooftops of downtown Houston. St. Mary’s in Galveston is Texas’ only basilica.
Enter Ronald Reagan—the liberals’ true friend.
Laura Furman handles The Glass House with a little too much care; Elmer Kelton’s novels take you way out West; a new filed guide digs into Texas’ past; Hearts will win yours.
Dissident Russian artists paint a grim picture of life behind the Iron Curtain.
A double basist leads a singular life.
The Houston Rockets need work; the Dallas Mavericks need help.
When ranchers gathered in Lubbock to celebrate their way of life, they found they didn’t have much cause for celebration.
After a sloppy 1979-80 season, the San Antonio Spurs had no coach, no center, and no end to their problems. But all that has changed.
Nostalgic daddies think of schoolboy football as good, clean fun. But kids soon realize it’s more like corporal punishment.
The story of Howard Hughes and the discredited “Mormon will” is the unlikely subject of a quirky film about rags and out-of-reach riches. Ordinary People is full of woe; Stardust Memories has far to go.
A loaf of bread, a glass of wine, and though hast a wine bar.
At his school in Austria, Texas singer Richard Owens acquaints opera hopefuls with a bravo new world.
Why do 61 million adult Americans say “pooh” to the pew?
The press keeps telling us how bad Carter and Reagan are, but let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
Sculptor Jim Love makes art look easy—and fun.
Joe “King” Carrasco and the Crowns rock New Wave with a Tex-Mex rhythm.
Although Don Albert’s music was a mainstay of the forties, his obstinate stand against racism put him years ahead of his time.
Arnold Shoenberg is the century’s most maligned composer, but to know him is to love him.
The present against the past: what the New World can learn from the Old, and vice versa.
Three Texas poets word their way into print; two new novels trace the adventures of Neanderthals and knights-errant.
Leon Box is a retarded artist whose work underscores the beauty and absurdity of a world he has seen very little of.
Houston’s Equinox Theatre has fine actors and directors, but its raunchy sex and violence can make you squirm. The nineteenth-century Granbury Opera House is a fetching setting for Texas Meg.
In Austin, experts in genetics are helping parents of children with birth defects come to terms with the most painful questions of their lives.
Willie Nelson tries on a starring role and comes out smelling like a Honeysuckle Rose; in Willie an Phil Paul Mazursky pays homage to Truffaut, although he shortchanges himself.
Go east, young Westerners, for the oddest, spiciest food in Dallas; Houston’s Cho is chic, but its kitchen is all shook up.
This one has been a humdinger, but every Texas summer is broiling hot—and that’s nothing to get all steamed up about.
The feisty pastor of the People’s Baptist Church keeps marching on to war with the State of Texas. Mexican American Pentecostals in the Valley ask Houston’s God’s help on a hot problem.
On the Move.
In Music for Chameleons it’s hard to tell whether Truman Capote is telling the whole truth or nothing at all of the truth; Conspiracy ferrets out much of the truth about John F. Kennedy’s murder.
All the beautiful kickers gathered in Houston for the premiere of Urban Cowboy. It began at a shopping center and ended in a honk-tonk, and John Travolta had to say he liked it.
The Astros are packing ‘em in with a great new pitch—a sales pitch.
The imminent demise of Austin’s famed music hall already has Texans singing the Armadillo homesick blues.
The Big Red One is Sam fuller’s war baby; roadie never gets out of its rut; The Tin Drum misses a few beats.
Try pasta and veal at Sergio’s in Dallas—that’s Italian! For an outstanding Sunday brunch, put your stock in Austin’s Green Pastures.
Mozart and Beethoven made an appearance, but Johann Sebastian was the guest of honor at Victoria’s annual Bach Festival.
Texas’ rural Wends take time from chores to attend St. Paul’s Lutheran in Serbin; vacationers on Padre Island take time from play to attend an open-air mass at St. Andrew’s by the Sea.
Those luck Arabs, with all that oil! The only problem, as a Saudi finance minister points out, is that oil is all they have.
Poor Houston.