Attention architecture nuts: the Annual Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy (FLWBC) Conference, titled Modifying Wright’s Buildings and Their Sites: Additions, Subtractions, Adjacencies, lands at the Hilton Cincinnati Netherland Plaza on September 22. This will be the first time Cincinnati hosts the 21-year-old nonprofit, which aims to “facilitate the preservation and maintenance of the remaining structures […]
How two brothers are trying to parlay a small town’s past into a brighter future.
Before he passes the baton, Mr. Järvi has something to say
As a kid in the ’70s, I never had much faith in ghost stories. I tended to get hung up on the logistics or pick apart the logic. Like: Why would a ghost break all the china? Was he in a snit? Or: So a ghost knows how to flip a light switch on and off—big deal.
It began as a New Year’s resolution. Frustrated by previous failed attempts at loftier goals—generate world peace or floss twice a day—lowering my expectations seemed like the best course. I would dedicate the year to becoming more French.
It doesn’t get more fair to middlin’ than Billie’s Skyline Tavern. This little place next to NKU is in a house. Not even an old house, just a normal little everyday house that you might mistake for Mr. and Mrs. Middle America’s place where they raised their average two-and-a-half kids.
A beautiful little girl—dark hair, darker eyes—is running laps in the dining room of Amma’s Kitchen. She weaves in and out among the tables, her uninhibited peals of laughter and perpetual motion occasionally interrupted when she stops to shine the flashlight she’s carrying on a diner.When she runs by our table for the second time, the glint from my silver hoop earrings brings her flying feet to a halt.