Imagine spending an entire youth, adulthood and middle age doing a single craft. One that’s laborious, specialized and dangerous all at once. more

With light from the sunset flowing through the studio window, Kymia Nawabi kneels before a wax mold of her own body, dragging the glinting teeth of a saw over the leg. Nawabi’s project focuses on the human body, decorating it with glittering, painted elements of nature, ranging from pinecones to simple sticks. She then makes armor out of it. more

The late day sun illuminates a handmade curtain. A baby rests during a game of Candy Crush. A network of hands arranges dominoes on a table. These are all scenes from the lives of older Bronx residents documented in photographs exhibited for the first time at the Bronx Documentary Center. more

As many an open mic poet knows, finding a decent venue that doesn’t run too late and has an audience that’s receptive and respectful seems like a myth. Bushwick warehouses at 2 a.m., are filled with drunks and bitter writers. Greenwich Village hideouts are brimming with “flower power” ghosts from the past. But then there’s An Beal Bocht Café. more

Helping an ever-changing community see themselves reflected in a century-old museum is not an easy task. Laura Vookles, curatorial department chair at the Hudson River Museum, wasn’t focused on the ease of that task. She was more concerned about action. more

In the outskirts of Los Angeles, in the shadow of Alhambra, lies an estate called The Huntington. more

The sidewalk outside An Beal Bocht Café was illuminated by Christmas lights galore, yet was empty and cold. The café’s performance space, however, was occupied by the rehearsing sopranos and cellists, violinists and narrators of Classical Café, a Riverdale-based chamber music group, readying their performance of Dylan Thomas’ “A Child’s Christmas in Wales.” more

Wave Hill is on virtually every advertisement for the northwest Bronx, but rarely has its horticultural grandeur been bound to a book. more

It has been a year of things that were lost and things that were found, of righteous indignation and petty feuds, of new starts and milestones. more

As the trains wended their way through lush cityscapes, children leaned, pointed and rejoiced. They tugged at their parents to get their attention, and scurried from one locomotive display to the next. The trains, like the children, were small, as were most of their surroundings. more