An 8‑Minute Animated Flight Over Ancient Rome

“At roof-top lev­el, Rome may seem a city of spires and steeples and tow­ers that reach up towards eter­nal truths,” said Antho­ny Burgess of the great city in which he lived in the mid-70s. “But this city is not built in the sky. It is built on dirt, earth, dung, cop­u­la­tion, death, human­i­ty.” For all the city’s ancient grandeur, the real Rome is to be found in its broth­els, bath­hous­es, and cat­a­combs, a sen­ti­ment wide­ly shared by writ­ers in Rome since Lucil­ius, often cred­it­ed as Rome’s first satirist, a genre invent­ed to bring the lofty down to earth.

“The Romans … proud­ly declared that satire was ‘total­ly ours,’ ” writes Robert Cow­an, senior lec­tur­er in clas­sics at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Syd­ney. “Instead of heroes, noble deeds, and city-foun­da­tions recount­ed in ele­vat­ed lan­guage,” ancient Romans con­struct­ed their lit­er­a­ture from “a hodge­podge of scum­bags, orgies, and the break­down of urban soci­ety, spat out in words as filthy as the vices they describe.” Lit­tle won­der, per­haps, that the author of A Clock­work Orange found Rome so much to his lik­ing. For all the Chris­tian­i­ty over­laid atop the ruins, “the Romans are not a holy peo­ple; they are pagans.”

In the video above, see an 8‑minute rooftop-lev­el flight above the ancient impe­r­i­al city, “the most exten­sive, detailed and accu­rate vir­tu­al 3D recon­struc­tion of Ancient Rome,” its cre­ators, His­to­ry in 3D, write. They are about halfway through the project, which cur­rent­ly includes such areas as the Forum, the Colos­se­um, Impe­r­i­al Forums, “famous baths, the­aters, tem­ples and palaces” and the Traste­vere, where Burgess made his home mil­len­nia after the peri­od rep­re­sent­ed in the CGI recon­struc­tion above and where, he wrote in the 1970s, antiq­ui­ty had been pre­served: “Trastev­eri­ni… regard them­selves as the true Romans.”

The lan­guage of this Rome, like that of Juve­nal, the ancient city’s great­est satirist, offers “a ground-lev­el view of a Rome we could bare­ly guess at from the hero­ism of the Aeneid,” writes Cow­an. “The lan­guage of the Trastev­eri­ni is rough,” writes Burgess, “scur­rilous, blas­phe­mous, obscene, the tongue of the gut­ter. Many of them are lead­ers of inten­si­ty, rebels agains the gov­ern­ment. They have had two thou­sand years of bad gov­ern­ment and they must look for­ward to two thou­sand more.”

As we drift over the city’s rooftops in the impres­sive­ly ren­dered ani­ma­tion above, we might imag­ine its streets below teem­ing with pro­fane, dis­grun­tled Romans of all kinds. It may be impos­si­ble to recre­ate Ancient Rome at street lev­el, with all of its many sights, smells, and sounds. But if we’ve been to Rome, or ever get the chance to vis­it, we may mar­vel, along with Burgess, at its “con­ti­nu­ity of cul­ture.… Prob­a­bly Rome has changed less in two thou­sand years than Man­hat­tan has in twen­ty years.” The Empire may have been fat­ed to col­lapse under its own weight, but Rome, the Eter­nal City, may indeed endure for­ev­er.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Vir­tu­al Tour of Ancient Rome, Cir­ca 320 CE: Explore Stun­ning Recre­ations of The Forum, Colos­se­um and Oth­er Mon­u­ments

The His­to­ry of Ancient Rome in 20 Quick Min­utes: A Primer Nar­rat­ed by Bri­an Cox

What Did the Roman Emper­ors Look Like?: See Pho­to­re­al­is­tic Por­traits Cre­at­ed with Machine Learn­ing

Josh Jones is a writer based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Lou Reed Turns Rock Critic, Sizing Up Everyone from the “Amazingly Talented” Beatles to the “Two Bit, Pretentious” Frank Zappa

A sig­nal char­ac­ter­is­tic of pow­er­ful crit­i­cism is that it keeps peo­ple talk­ing years after the death of the crit­ic him­self. Think, for exam­ple, of Lester Bangs, who despite hav­ing been gone for near­ly 40 years left behind judg­ments that still res­onate through the halls of rock and roll. The vital­i­ty of his work was­n’t hurt by a ten­den­cy to get unusu­al­ly close to some of his sub­jects, espe­cial­ly Lou Reed. “The things he wrote and sang and played in the Vel­vet Under­ground were for me part of the begin­ning of a real rev­o­lu­tion in the whole scheme between men and women, men and men, women and women, humans and humans,” Bangs wrote in 1980.

Five years ear­li­er, Bangs had called Reed “a com­plete­ly depraved per­vert and pathet­ic death dwarf,” as well as “a liar, a wast­ed tal­ent, an artist con­tin­u­al­ly in flux, and a huck­ster sell­ing pounds of his own flesh. A pan­der­er liv­ing off the dumb­bell nihilism of a sev­en­ties gen­er­a­tion that doesn’t have the ener­gy to com­mit sui­cide.”

All this he meant, of course, in praise. Reed, for his part, dis­played such elab­o­rate dis­dain for Bangs that it could only have been moti­vat­ed by respect. “What oth­er rock artist would put up with an inter­view by the author of this arti­cle,” Bangs rhetor­i­cal­ly asked, “read the resul­tant vicious vit­ri­ol-spew with approval, and then invite me back for a sec­ond round because of course he’s such a masochist he loved the hatch­et in his back?”

A mag­a­zine page now cir­cu­lat­ing on Twit­ter col­lects Reed’s own opin­ions on a vari­ety of oth­er rock acts and coun­ter­cul­tur­al fig­ures of the 1960s and 70s. The Bea­t­les, who’d just bro­ken up? “The most incred­i­ble song­writ­ers ever” (though Reed’s judg­ment of the Fab Four would change with time). The Rolling Stones? “If I had to pick my top ten, they’ve got at least five songs.” Cree­dence Clear­wa­ter Revival? “I like them a lot.” David Bowie? “The kid’s got every­thing… every­thing.” Fel­low Vel­vets Doug Yule (“so cute”), Nico (“the kind of per­son that you meet, and you’re not quite the same after­wards”), and John Cale (“the next Beethoven or some­thing”) get com­pli­ments; as for Andy Warhol, out of whose “fac­to­ry” the band emerged, “I real­ly love him.” (“Lou learned a lot from Andy,” wrote Bangs, “main­ly about becom­ing a suc­cess­ful pub­lic per­son­al­i­ty by sell­ing your own pri­vate quirks to an audi­ence greedy for more and more geeks.”)

But as a con­nois­seur of the hatch­et, Reed also plants a few him­self. Of “Cal­i­for­nia bands” like Jef­fer­son Air­plane and the Grate­ful Dead, he said “they can’t play and they cer­tain­ly can’t write.” Nor, evi­dent­ly, could the Who’s Pete Town­shend: “as a lyri­cist he’s so pro­found­ly untal­ent­ed and, you know, philo­soph­i­cal­ly bor­ing to say the least.” Reed does “get off” on the Kinks, “then I just get bored after a while.” Alice Coop­er rep­re­sents “the worst, most dis­gust­ing aspect of rock music”; Roxy Music “don’t know what they’re talk­ing about.” Frank Zap­pa is “the sin­gle most untal­ent­ed per­son I’ve heard in my life. He’s two-bit, pre­ten­tious, aca­d­e­m­ic, and he can’t play his way out of any­thing.” Yet at Zap­pa’s posthu­mous induc­tion into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1995, the lauda­to­ry speech was deliv­ered by none oth­er than… Lou Reed. In rock, as in the oth­er arts, resent­ment can become the seed of admi­ra­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lou Reed Cre­ates a List of the 10 Best Records of All Time

An Ani­mat­ed Lou Reed Explains The Vel­vet Underground’s Artis­tic Goals, and Why The Bea­t­les Were “Garbage”

Hear Ornette Cole­man Col­lab­o­rate with Lou Reed, Which Lou Called “One of My Great­est Moments”

The Out­siders: Lou Reed, Hunter S. Thomp­son, and Frank Zap­pa Reveal Them­selves in Cap­ti­vat­ing­ly Ani­mat­ed Inter­views

Lou Reed Curates an Eclec­tic Playlist of His Favorite Songs Dur­ing His Final Days: Stream 27 Tracks Lou Was Lis­ten­ing To

Ing­mar Bergman Eval­u­ates His Fel­low Film­mak­ers — The “Affect­ed” Godard, “Infan­tile” Hitch­cock & Sub­lime Tarkovsky

Andy Warhol Hosts Frank Zap­pa on His Cable TV Show, and Lat­er Recalls, “I Hat­ed Him More Than Ever” After the Show

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Queen’s Guard Pays Tribute to Meatloaf, Playing a Brass Version of “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)”

Mar­vin Lee Aday, aka Meat­loaf, died late last week, report­ed­ly after falling ill with Covid. At Buck­ing­ham Palace, the Queen’s Guard paid trib­ute to the musi­cian and his 1993 hit “I’d Do Any­thing for Love (But I Won’t Do That)” on Sun­day. It’s a nice touch.

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How French Music Teacher Nadia Boulanger Raised a Generation of Composers: Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, Quincy Jones, Philip Glass & More

One of my favorite quotes about cre­ativ­i­ty comes from 20th-cen­tu­ry elec­tric bass vir­tu­oso Jaco Pas­to­rius: “You don’t get bet­ter, you grow.” The aspi­ra­tion to get “bet­ter” implies a cat­e­go­ry of “best” – a height artists fre­quent­ly despair of ever reach­ing. Pas­to­rius reject­ed a state of per­fec­tion, which would mean stop­ping, going no fur­ther, freez­ing in place. “One can always learn more. One can always under­stand more. The ques­tion is to pro­vide your­self with con­fi­dence.” That wis­dom comes not from Jaco Pas­to­rius but from 20th cen­tu­ry French music teacher and com­pos­er Nadia Boulanger, who might not have approved of the lib­er­tine jazz phe­nom’s life, giv­en her aris­to­crat­ic con­ser­vatism, but hearti­ly endorsed his wis­dom about con­tin­u­ous cre­ative growth.

Although deeply root­ed in a clas­si­cal tra­di­tion which strove for per­fec­tion, Boulanger taught, influ­enced, and cham­pi­oned some of the cen­tu­ry’s most avant-garde com­posers, such as Igor Stravin­sky, who broke vio­lent­ly with the past, as well as jazz greats like Quin­cy Jones, who took her lessons in an entire­ly dif­fer­ent mod­ern pop direc­tion.

Indeed, Boulanger presided over “one of the most expan­sive  peri­ods in music his­to­ry, par­tic­u­lar­ly for Amer­i­ca,” says the nar­ra­tor of the Inside the Score doc­u­men­tary above, “How Nadia Boulanger Raised a Gen­er­a­tion of Com­posers.” Aaron Cop­land, Leonard Bern­stein, Charles Strauss, and even min­i­mal­ists like Philip Glass… all stud­ied with Boulanger at some point in their career.

Boulanger also took on many female stu­dents, like com­pos­er Lousie Tal­ma, but she pre­ferred to work with men. (The famous­ly stern teacher once com­pli­ment­ed a female stu­dent by call­ing her “Mon­sieur”). She had lit­tle regard for Roman­tic ideas about “genius,” and cer­tain­ly not all of her stu­dents were as tal­ent­ed as the list of famous names asso­ci­at­ed with her, but for those with aspi­ra­tions in the clas­si­cal world, a vis­it to Boulanger’s Paris apart­ment con­sti­tut­ed a rite of pas­sage. “Aaron Cop­land and Vir­gil Thom­son led the way in the ’20s,” notes Red Bull Music Acad­e­my, “trans­form­ing Boulanger’s clear, tart tonal exact­ness into a new ver­sion of hardy Amer­i­cana.” She became such a stal­wart pres­ence in the world of 20th cen­tu­ry com­po­si­tion that com­pos­er Ned Rorem once joked, “Myth cred­its every Amer­i­can town with two things: a 10-cent store and a Boulanger stu­dent.”

At age 90, in 1977, Boulanger was well known as the most famous music teacher in the world when direc­tor Bruno Mon­sain­geon caught up with her for the near­ly hour-long inter­view above. See the aged but still incred­i­bly sharp (no pun intend­ed) leg­end still teach­ing, and strug­gling to put into words exact­ly how it is that music keeps us grow­ing past math­e­mat­i­cal lim­i­ta­tions. “Can one actu­al­ly define that?” she asks mid-sen­tence while instruct­ing a stu­dent. “I am using words such as ten­der­ness or ten­sion. It’s all wrong. It is what the music itself is.…”

Learn much more about Boulanger’s extra­or­di­nary life and work as a music teacher and com­pos­er in the doc­u­men­tary Madamoi­selle: A Por­trait of Nadia Boulanger, fur­ther up, and in our pre­vi­ous post at the link below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Meet Nadia Boulanger, “The Most Influ­en­tial Teacher Since Socrates,” Who Men­tored Philip Glass, Leonard Bern­stein, Aaron Cop­land, Quin­cy Jones & Oth­er Leg­ends

1200 Years of Women Com­posers: A Free 78-Hour Music Playlist That Takes You From Medieval Times to Now

A Min­i­mal Glimpse of Philip Glass

Josh Jones is a writer based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

New Study Finds That Humans Are 33,000 Years Older Than We Thought

pho­to by Céline Vidal

“Where’re you from?” one char­ac­ter asks anoth­er on the Fire­sign The­atre’s clas­sic 1969 album How Can You Be in Two Places at Once When You’re Not Any­where at All. “Nairo­bi, ma’am,” the oth­er replies. “Isn’t every­body?” Like most of the count­less mul­ti-lay­ered gags on their albums, this one makes a cul­tur­al ref­er­ence, pre­sum­ably to the dis­cov­er­ies made by famed pale­oan­thro­pol­o­gists Louis and Mary Leakey over the pre­vi­ous 20 years. Their dis­cov­ery of fos­sils in Kenya and else­where did much to advance the the­sis that humankind evolved in Africa, and that the process was hap­pen­ing more than 1.75 mil­lion years before.

Like all sci­en­tif­ic break­throughs, the Leakeys’ work only prompt­ed more ques­tions — or rather, cre­at­ed more oppor­tu­ni­ties for refin­ing and adding detail to the rel­e­vant body of knowl­edge. Sub­se­quent digs all over Africa have pro­duced fur­ther evi­dence of how far our species and its pre­de­ces­sors go back, and where exact­ly the evo­lu­tion­ary progress hap­pened.

Just this month, Nature pub­lished a new paper on the “age of the old­est known Homo sapi­ens from east­ern Africa.” These new find­ings about known fos­sils, orig­i­nal­ly dis­cov­ered in south­west­ern Ethiopia in 1967, sug­gest that the time has come for anoth­er revi­sion of the long pre-his­to­ry of human­i­ty.

pho­to by Céline Vidal

The paper’s authors, writes Reuters’ Will Dun­ham, “used the geo­chem­i­cal fin­ger­prints of a thick lay­er of ash found above the sed­i­ments con­tain­ing the fos­sils to ascer­tain that it result­ed from an erup­tion that spewed vol­canic fall­out over a wide swathe of Ethiopia rough­ly 233,000 years ago.” These fos­sils “include a rather com­plete cra­nial vault and low­er jaw, some ver­te­brae and parts of the arms and legs.” After their ini­tial dis­cov­ery by the late Richard Leakey, son of Louis and Mary (and a man gen­uine­ly from Nairo­bi, born and raised), the fos­sils buried by this pre­his­toric Vesu­vius were pre­vi­ous­ly believed to be “no more than about 200,000 years old.”

Dun­ham quotes the paper’s lead author, Uni­ver­si­ty of Cam­bridge vol­ca­nol­o­gist Celine Vidal, as say­ing this dis­cov­ery aligns with “the most recent sci­en­tif­ic mod­els of human evo­lu­tion plac­ing the emer­gence of Homo sapi­ens some­time between 350,000 to 200,000 years ago.” Though Vidal and her team’s analy­sis of the ash’s geo­chem­i­cal com­po­si­tion has deter­mined the min­i­mum age of Omo I, as these fos­sils are known, the max­i­mum age remains an open ques­tion. Or at least, it awaits the efforts of researchers to date the “ash lay­er below the sed­i­ment con­tain­ing the fos­sils” and ren­der a more pre­cise esti­mate. And when that’s estab­lished, it will then, ide­al­ly, become mate­r­i­al for the next big absur­dist com­e­dy troupe.

via Hyper­al­ler­gic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Where Did Human Beings Come From? 7 Mil­lion Years of Human Evo­lu­tion Visu­al­ized in Six Min­utes

Richard Dawkins Explains Why There Was Nev­er a First Human Being

How Humans Migrat­ed Across The Globe Over 200,000 Years: An Ani­mat­ed Look

Archae­ol­o­gists Dis­cov­er the World’s First “Art Stu­dio” Cre­at­ed in an Ethiopi­an Cave 43,000 Years Ago

The Life & Dis­cov­er­ies of Mary Leakey Cel­e­brat­ed in an Endear­ing Cutout Ani­ma­tion

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How to Open a Door: A Finnish Instructional Video from 1979

Before you get start­ed, turn on the sub­ti­tles by click­ing the “CC” but­ton on the low­er right side of the video.

Did you know that one out of every three peo­ple opens a door incor­rect­ly. You–yes, you–might be doing it all wrong. But this Finnish instruc­tion­al video from 1979 has you cov­ered. Watch and learn. This clip will–as they say–open so many doors to you…

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Boing­Bo­ing

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Why Fin­land & Den­mark Are Hap­pi­er Than the Unit­ed States

The Bialet­ti Moka Express: The His­to­ry of Italy’s Icon­ic Cof­fee Mak­er, and How to Use It the Right Way

How to Open a Wine Bot­tle with Your Shoe

The Great Chicago Book Sale: Get Up to 90% Off Books from UChicago Press

The Great Chicago Book Sale

FYI: The Uni­ver­si­ty of Chica­go Press is run­ning a big sale. They write:

Now through June 15th, 2022 you can get thought-pro­vok­ing, inde­pen­dent­ly pub­lished books for up to 90% off with code AD1958.

Our annu­al sale is one of the biggest uni­ver­si­ty press book sales in the coun­try. Every year we go through our over­stock inven­to­ry and offer deep dis­counts on hun­dreds of books in sub­jects like his­to­ry, fic­tion, art, sci­ence, trav­el, cook­ing, and more. Shop below or down­load a copy of our PDF cat­a­log to get these amaz­ing deals on schol­ar­ly and trade titles from the Uni­ver­si­ty of Chica­go Press and our dis­trib­uted pub­lish­ers. Hur­ry! Sup­plies are lim­it­ed on some books.

Enter the sale here and remem­ber to use code AD1958

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

The Craft of Writ­ing Effec­tive­ly: Essen­tial Lessons from the Long­time Direc­tor of UChicago’s Writ­ing Pro­gram

Glob­al Warm­ing: A Free Course from UChica­go Explains Cli­mate Change

Kurt Von­negut Dia­grams the Shape of All Sto­ries in a Master’s The­sis Reject­ed by U. Chica­go

Hear Benedict Cumberbatch Reading Letters by Kurt Vonnegut, Alan Turing, Sol LeWitt, and Others

Many know Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch as neu­ro­sur­geon-turned-Mas­ter of the Mys­tic Arts Doc­tor Strange. Orig­i­nal­ly cre­at­ed in the 1960s by Mar­vel Comics artist and writer Steve Ditko, the char­ac­ter has gained a new fan fol­low­ing through the films of the Mar­vel Cin­e­mat­ic Uni­verse. In 2016’s Doc­tor Strange, the upcom­ing Doc­tor Strange in the Mul­ti­verse of Mad­ness, and sev­er­al oth­er MCU pic­tures besides, he’s been played by Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch. Open Cul­ture read­ers may know Cum­ber­batch bet­ter as the 21st-cen­tu­ry detec­tive pro­tag­o­nist of the BBC series Sher­lock — or, even more like­ly, as a read­er-out-loud of his­tor­i­cal and lit­er­ary let­ters.

We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured Cum­ber­batch’s onstage ren­di­tions of every­thing from Albert Camus’ thank-you note to his ele­men­tary school teacher to Kurt Von­negut’s advice to the peo­ple of the year 2088 to Franz Kafka’s The Meta­mor­pho­sis. Now we’ve round­ed up more let­ter-read­ings in the ten-video playlist above.

Begin­ning with Sol LeWit­t’s let­ter of advice to Eva Hesse, it con­tin­ues on to Cum­ber­batch’s read­ings of oth­er such works as “the best cov­er let­ter ever writ­ten,” more than one mis­sive by the pio­neer­ing and per­se­cut­ed com­put­er sci­en­tist Alan Tur­ing, a “let­ter about crabs (not the kind you eat)” by Patrick Leigh Fer­mor, and a Richard Nixon’s William Safire-com­posed speech to be read in the event that Apol­lo 11 did­n’t return to Earth.

The mate­r­i­al in this cor­re­spon­dence, all of which Cum­ber­batch reads aloud for Let­ters of Note’s Let­ters Live project, varies con­sid­er­able in both tone and con­tent. Lit­tle of it resem­bles the com­ic-book or detec­tive-nov­el mate­r­i­al with which he has won main­stream fame. But like any good actor, Cum­ber­batch knows how to tai­lor his per­for­ma­tive per­sona to each new con­text with­out los­ing the innate sen­si­bil­i­ty that sets him apart. At the same time, he clear­ly under­stands how to inter­pret not just dif­fer­ent char­ac­ters, real­is­tic as well as fan­tas­ti­cal, but also the per­son­al­i­ties of real human beings who actu­al­ly lived. What­ev­er oth­er plea­sures it offers, hear­ing Cum­ber­batch read let­ters under­scores the fact that we could all do much worse than to be played by him in the movie of our life.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch Reads “the Best Cov­er Let­ter Ever Writ­ten”

Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch Reads Kurt Vonnegut’s Let­ter of Advice to Peo­ple Liv­ing in the Year 2088

Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch Reads a Let­ter Alan Tur­ing Wrote in “Dis­tress” Before His Con­vic­tion For “Gross Inde­cen­cy”

“Stop It and Just DO”: Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch Reads Advice on Over­com­ing Cre­ative Blocks, Writ­ten by Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse (1965)

Hear Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch Read John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightin­gale” and Oth­er Great Works by Shake­speare, Dante & Coleridge

Hear Moby-Dick Read in Its Entire­ty by Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch, Til­da Swin­ton, John Waters, Stephen Fry & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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