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South Coast Repertory loses $20k grant after NEA changes priorities

South Coast Repertory loses $20k grant after NEA changes priorities

Richard Soto and Richard Doyle in South Coast Repertory's 2022 production of 'A Christmas Carol,' by Charles Dickens, adapted by Jerry Patch.
South Coast Repertory announced Tuesday it lost a $20,000 federal grant for a play on the day the theater company was celebrating its opening night due to a change in the National Endowment for the Arts' grant-making priorities.
The Costa Mesa-based theater company was notified Friday that its National Endowment for the Arts grant for 'The Staircase' by Noa Gardner was being withdrawn.
The grant did not finance the entire production, South Coast Repertory Managing Director Suzanne Appel told City News Service.
But the grant 'supports quite a lot of the work of the skilled technicians,' who work on the production, she said.
The $20,000 'is not anywhere close to the full cost of the project or even a tenth of the full cost, but it is a meaningful amount of money,' Appel said.
The company was told Nov. 7 it would receive the grant.
'We were told we did everything we needed to do and the grant was in process, and then we received this notification with no warning,' Appel said.
South Coast Repertory has been given a chance to appeal the denial in a week, Appel said, adding the theater company intends to appeal the denial.
In the notice of withdrawal of the grant, the theater company was told that the arts agency was 'updating its grant-making priorities to focus funding on projects that reflect the nation's rich artistic heritage and creativity as prioritized by the president. Consequently, we are terminating awards that fall outside these new priorities.
'The NEA will now prioritize projects that elevate the nation's (historically Black colleges and universities) and Hispanic Serving Institutions, celebrate the 250th anniversary of American independence, foster AI competency, empower houses of worship to service communities, assist with disaster recovery, foster skilled trade jobs, make America healthy again, support the military and veterans, support Tribal communities, make the District of Columbia safe and beautiful, and support the economic development of Asian American communities. Funding is being allocated in a new direction in furtherance of the administration's agenda.'
Gardner's story focuses on a native Hawaiian family and was commissioned, developed and staged by South Coast Repertory.
South Coast Repertory officials say it celebrates native Hawaiian culture and is a 'universal story of familial love and obligations...'

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Photos: S.F. Juneteenth Parade a joyful celebration of Black freedom and heritage
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Photos: S.F. Juneteenth Parade a joyful celebration of Black freedom and heritage

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Stories about the end of the world feel like a relief to me. Here's why
Stories about the end of the world feel like a relief to me. Here's why

Hamilton Spectator

time4 hours ago

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Stories about the end of the world feel like a relief to me. Here's why

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Cell signals, the internet and cable television stop working shortly after the family lands in the countryside. Probably, they think, their remote vacation spot is beyond reach of satellite networks. That night, though, when the owners of the house, the Washingtons , a kind, elderly Black couple, show up and ask to stay, Clay and Amanda learn that the loss of service is widespread. Drama unfolds on two tracks. There is tension between the families. Clay and Amanda are suspicious of the Washingtons , which has as much to do with the white couple's latent racism as with the unexpected appearance of the homeowners. Who has the right to call the shots: the white renters or the Black deed-holders? At what point does valid speculation about the crisis slide into harmful paranoia? On a second narrative track, the world is ending. The reader understands this early in the book more clearly than the characters ever do. There's plenty of evidence on Long Island that something is wrong. The blackout, communication breakdown, a deafening noise overhead, terrified neighbours, flamingos in the pool. A few days after the vacation begins, Archie's teeth fall out. The families know there is trouble, they are in trouble, but they never understand the extent of it. Not knowing is part of their terror. Around the novel's midpoint, a horrifying noise erupts from the sky. The noise divides the families' lives in two: 'the period before they'd heard the noise and the period after.' Inside the novel, no one discovers the source of the sound. However, readers learn from the Voice of God narrator ( VOG ) that top-secret fighter jets are scrambling toward a new era of battle over the eastern seaboard. If there were no VOG interruptions, no recurring omniscient assurances anchoring the contingencies of the interpersonal plot to the certainty of global apocalypse, 'Leave the World Behind' would be an anxiety novel. Is Armageddon nigh or not? Some of my favourite books are anxiety novels. Arguably, the end-of-the-world anxiety novel is scarier than speculative end-of-the-world fiction. Anxiety is torturous, paralyzing. It's a truism of the horror genre that anticipating the arrival of the monster can be more terrifying than the beast's appearance. But the uncertainty driving the anxiety novel, the book's ultimate source of terror, can't help but leave open the possibility that things might not be as bad as they seem. Nothing left to do but camp: Prince Amponsah, left, and Mackenzie Davis in the HBO Max television adaptation of the post-apocalyptic novel 'Station Eleven.' In 'Leave the World Behind,' there is no uncertainty. Because if the bombs are already in the air, the electrical grid is already down for the final time, the life-destroying echoes of the noise are already in your body, there is no future that isn't mass slaughter. As if to put a fine point on the guarantee of imminent death, the futility of resistance, Alam bores an unnoticed tick into Archie's ankle long before the boy is dying from noise-sickness. Why does Alam's crushing story captivate me? Why am I thrilled by the promise that we're on the edge of extinction? I think the book delights by allowing us to revel in the pleasures of giving up. Quit your job, break dinner plans, stop exercising, leave the relationship. What joy there is in not having to do the thing we thought we had to do. The world is ending and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it . In his essay 'On Giving Up,' the psychoanalyst Adam Phillips writes: 'We tend to think of giving up, in the ordinary way, as a lack of courage, as an improper or embarrassing orientation toward what is shameful and fearful.' However, Phillips argues, there is such a thing as 'a tyranny of completion, of finishing things, which can narrow our minds unduly.' The refusal to give up can be harmful, murderous. Phillips interprets 'Macbeth,' 'Lear,' and 'Othello' as tragic dramatizations of the tyranny of completion. My earliest memory of the desire to give up ends with my mother rejecting it. I was nine or 10 years old and wanted to quit the school choir. Mom and I stood in the kitchen before breakfast. I don't remember why it felt so important to quit, but I was crying, shaking, desperate for the relief of not having to sing that afternoon. Mom's response was sympathetic but stern: No. We don't quit things partway through. No negotiation. I felt like puking. I have quit things, though. And I've loved it. Oh, the joy of leaving that troubled 10-year relationship! I imagine it's what Scrooge felt waking on Christmas morning, learning that he has another chance. I instantly recall the butterflies, the excitement of quitting what seemed like a life destined for permanent frustration. The breakup was terrible. I hated hurting her. The logistics of moving were complicated, and she trashed the house when she left the final time. But I don't feel the pain of those hurtful memories as intensely as I feel the pleasure of the memory of giving up. Essayist, author and Wilfrid Laurier University professor James Cairns. The incredible thing is that most of the time, people don't give up. They struggle, they overcome, they get by, they make do. Why don't people kill themselves, asks Camus at the start of 'The Myth of Sisyphus.' Life is absurd; what's the point of living? Notwithstanding its obviousness, Camus's conclusion is profound: the nature of the human condition is to keep going, to not give up. That doesn't mean we don't fantasize about quitting, maybe even about leaving the world behind. It's the pleasure in the dream of quitting, not the politics of mass death, that I desire. In imagining the end of the world, I experience the release of countless other pressures. My own anxieties get transferred to the novel, where they disappear, if only for a fraction of a moment, in the blackout, the sound, the carnage of the plot. Research shows that watching horror movies can relieve psychological tension. There are better apocalyptic novels than 'Leave the World Behind.' For portraying social collapse as gradual and incomplete, Butler's 'Parable of the Sower' and Emily St. John Mandel's 'Station Eleven' are doubtless more realistic depictions of how modern society falls apart. The spirit of those books reminds me of Andreas Malm's admonition to fight climate change no matter the chances of victory. In 'How to Blow Up a Pipeline,' Malm argues that even if we know for certain that the climate crisis cannot be stopped there remains a moral imperative — a species-defining need — to fight until our last breath. 'Better to die blowing up a pipeline than to burn impassively,' writes Malm . The words could've come from Lauren Olamina's mouth. In Rice's 'Moon of the Crusted Snow,' once it's clear that widespread disaster has struck in 'the south' (the heartland of Canada, and, presumably, the world), Aileen, a community elder, says to her neighbour, Evan: 'In Crisis, on Crisis: Essays in Troubled Times' James Cairns 226 pages Wolsak and Wynn $22.00 ' What a silly word (apocalypse). I can tell you there's no word like that in Ojibwe. Well, I never heard a word like that from my elders anyway ... Our world isn't ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash (white man) came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that's when our world ended. They made us come all the way up here. This is not our homeland! But we had to adapt and luckily we already knew how to hunt and live on the land. We learned to live here ... But then they followed us up here and started taking our children away from us! That's when our world ended again. And that wasn't the last time.' Aileen is very likely right in assuming that the world will not end all at once. In 'Station Eleven,' 20 years after the pandemic killed 99.99 per cent of the human species, characters refer to themselves as living in the world after the end of the world. In the final pages of 'Prophet Song,' Paul Lynch writes that 'the world is always ending over and over again in one place but not another and that the end of the world is always a local event.' Viewed in one light, the world will not end even if it does. Of course, in a different light, one capable of simultaneously illuminating past, present, and future, the world will end, is ending . It's just a matter of time. In an essay about art's ability to alter experiences of time, Karl Ove Knausgård writes: 'We see the changes in the clouds but not the changes in the mountains,' because the 'now' of human perception excludes geologic time. In reality, mountains are moving, just more slowly than rivers and rabbits. It's anyone's guess how life on Earth is eventually snuffed out for good. Fire? Ice? Alien invasion? In any case, the party won't last forever. Butler and Mandel's realistic depictions of the gradual, uneven nature of collapse can make Alam's Big Bang version of the final crisis look foolish by comparison. But Alam is not wrong that one day it will all end in the passage of one second to the next. The light will be on, as it has been for millennia, and then, the light will go out. Alam's innovation is drawing that uniquely decisive moment from the (hopefully far-off) future and placing it in the now. Lights out tomorrow or next week. Whereas Butler, Mandel and Rice's main characters brim with insights about societal change and social justice, Alam's self-absorbed middle-class cast lusts over money and searches for Coca-Cola. Yet while stories of reproducing lives and communities in the aftermath of civilizational collapse are inspiring, admirable and satisfying, they're also exhausting, and not only because there are fires to build, continents to trudge across and gangs of murderous thieves to avoid. There's also the intense, inescapable fear on every page that survival won't work out. Nothing is guaranteed. By contrast, Alam's book guarantees the sudden and utter end of it all. There's catharsis in the swiftness and totality of such destruction. Amid today's overlapping political, economic and ecological crises, art's cathartic power is needed more urgently than ever. Show us the world vanishing on the page, and we may more clearly see sustainable paths ahead. Release in us the pleasure of giving up, and we may find new strength to struggle on. From 'In Crisis, On Crisis: Essays in Troubled Times' by James Cairns. ©2025. Reproduced with the permission of Wolsak & Wynn, 2025.

Gen Z Woman's Bizarre Pregnancy Craving Goes Viral—It's Cereal With a Twist
Gen Z Woman's Bizarre Pregnancy Craving Goes Viral—It's Cereal With a Twist

Newsweek

time10 hours ago

  • Newsweek

Gen Z Woman's Bizarre Pregnancy Craving Goes Viral—It's Cereal With a Twist

Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A Gen Z mom to be is raising eyebrows online after sharing her latest pregnancy craving. London-based Lidia Mera (@lidiavmera) told TikTok viewers that it was the time of day where she needed her "current hyper fixation" snack now that she's in her third trimester. "It's a little bit... I wouldn't say weird, but let's just say interesting," Mera said in her clip. The 24-year-old then prepares a bowl of chocolate hazelnut cereal complete with milk and ice cubes and an unexpectedly generous splash of soy sauce. Mera told Newsweek that her pregnancy craving is a sweet and salty snack that "somehow" works perfectly. "The perfect fusion between refreshing ice cold milk, chocolate filled crunchy cereal for the sweetness and then finishing it off with soy sauce to add that salty element into it—the perfect combo," she said. As someone who's always had a sweet tooth, Mera explained that she's started to also crave salty foods since becoming pregnant. "I tried to find a way to incorporate that salty element into a snack I regularly have: a bowl of cereal, and soy sauce just sounded like the perfect solution," she told Newsweek. "The ice cubes came in to make the milk even colder because when you're pregnant anything ice cold is just immediately 10 times better." Mera's clip has been viewed over 228,000 times and asked TikTok users to "rate" her pregnancy craving in the comments. "Sweet and salty is a foolproof combo so I'm not entirely surprised that this works but damn that soy sauce came out of nowhere," one user wrote. "I have soy sauce on basically everything so I get it," another user added. "Soy sauce and milk? Hell nah," a third wrote. Dr. Shyamala Vishnumohan, an accredited practicing dietitian with a special interest in fertility and pregnancy nutrition, told Newsweek that there's a reason behind pregnancy cravings. "I've seen women crave everything from raw mango with salt to tamarind, amla or even green chilli," she said. "From a scientific standpoint, they're partly driven by hormonal shifts and partly by nutrient needs." Vishnumohan also pointed to research that shows up to 90 percent of women experience cravings during pregnancy, with most occurring during the first and second trimesters. "I also believe pregnant mothers carry this intuitive body wisdom—gently nudging them toward what they need," she said. "It's a beautiful mystery." As for other cravings, Mera said she's been all about "red meat, fries, ice cream—and even better when you pair it or dip it in soy sauce." The expectant mom told Newsweek her pregnancy craving elicited a mix of opinions. "Some people saying it's absolutely horrifying and some people agreeing that this could actually be a good combo, but not sure if anyone is actually keen enough to give it a go," she said.

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