newyorker.com / .newyorker-com-magazine / Page 4

A great-granddaughter of Sigmund--and a child of Lucian--has had a lot to unpack. She's working through it, mesmerizingly, on "Fashion Neurosis."

"With your one, unchanging thought, what could you say?"

"Honey in my walk, & I lean, now down the Avenue, pseudo-pioneer to a seized / City, liege to a bee."

The countertenor searches for the right look to conjure Maria Callas for his starring role in the new production of "Galas."

The Czech composer energetically explored form after form.

Golf in Scotland or the Gulf of Mexico, and how the President keeps them straight.

Swifties are going crazy for "All You Had to Do Was R.S.V.P."

The Composer Laureate twins Adeev and Ezra Potash team up with the actor Martin Starr to build the perfect gummy.

You didn't want to go on this trip, Ronny said. You just wanted to get away from your boring husband.

Peress reached the World Trade Center just as the second tower collapsed.