Puglia, the heel of Italy’s boot, has long drawn visitors to its glittering beaches, but until now its accommodations have been largely limited to rustic masserie, modest guesthouses, and rental villas. When it debuts on April 12, Palazzo Daniele, a new hotel in the village of Gagliano del Capo, will offer travelers a more luxurious and design-oriented alternative. The nine-room property occupies the family palazzo of the art philanthropist Francesco Petrucci, built in 1861. He has teamed up with Gabriele Salini, the hotelier behind the intimate 10-suite G-Rough hotel in Rome. The two met one summer at the Capo d’Arte contemporary art fair, which Petrucci organizes, and connected over a shared passion for design. Not long after, they hired the Milanese design studio Palomba Serafini Associati to strip the neo-Classical building, which comprises two wings wrapped around a colonnaded courtyard, back to its core, preserving its vaulted ceilings, weathered stucco walls, ornate frescoes and original tile floors before layering in minimalist furniture and contemporary art including light boxes by the Roman artist Simon d’Exea and a large basin by the Italian artist Andrea Sala in which guests can shower.
“Puglia is a magical land, a place where simple things, common stories, minimal landscapes are as stunning as they are surprising,” says Salini, who grew up spending summers in a family home a few miles from Palazzo Daniele. “We are lucky enough to be bathed by two seas (Ionic and Adriatic), to be warmed by the sun almost six months per year, to grow the most flavored vegetables in our gardens and to be the guardians of an amazing cultural heritage.” Accordingly, Salini and Petrucci encourage guests to know the locals, such as the cook Federica de Giorgi, who prepares family-style meals for guests and is on-hand to share traditional pasta-making techniques or advise on where to find the best mozzarella. Palazzo Daniele, 60 Corso Umberto I, Gagliano del Capo — LAURA ITZKOWITZ
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In an age when people are taught to believe any story is worthy of public consumption, Chris Rush’s unimaginable journey, which he chronicles in his memoir “The Light Years,” blows that highly questionable theory out of the water. The marquee for the book might read “DRUGS, CULTS, THE DESERT, THE ’70s” — sexy titles that could lure you in — but it’s the small print that will keep you reading.
Rush, an artist and designer, starts the story with his privileged upbringing in New Jersey, where he details the epic outbursts from his father, who was horrified by his gay son. The standard reaction sets in, and he is sent away in hopes that a strict environment will rearrange biology. What Rush spirals into instead is a life of a dealer, a migration West, inexplicable violence and an eventual life off the grid. What’s most surprising, though, is the grace that can emerge from brutality.
It’s a relief to read someone who’s waited long enough to not only document his rather extraordinary experience, but most importantly to have the wisdom to understand it. The author is a child of the ’60s, who came of age in the ’70s, and the movement between these two influential decades is what the book reveals as a guidepost. In a way, the shift in ideology is what saves him. It’s hard to fathom how he got out alive. But thank goodness he did. — MINJU PAK
When the world is going to pieces, can photographers make a case for looking anywhere but straight at the storm? The answer comes this weekend at Pier 94 in New York, in the form of a show curated by the artist Alec Soth, “A Room for Solace: An Exhibition of Domestic Interiors.” The exhibition, on view at the Photography Show, presented by the Association of International Photography Art Dealers (Aipad), seeks refuge in 42 images by Diane Arbus, Sally Mann, Dorothea Lange, Robert Mapplethorpe and dozens of other artists, whose reflective photographs of unmade beds, building lobbies and leftover breakfasts, among other everyday scenes, quietly transcend the darkness of their own times.
“I’m so crazy about this picture,” Soth said in a recent phone call, as we each tried to parse a photograph by the Magnum photographer Wayne Miller of a couple alone in their bedroom. “It’s somber between them, but there’s also a feeling of relief. The gesture she makes of touching her pinkie is so real and tender.” A couple dances alone in a kitchen in an image by Elliott Erwitt; two dancers lounge backstage, partially robed, at the Copa Club in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, in a picture by Danny Lyon; in a Nancy Rexroth photograph, halos of light surround a bed like dreams. If there is a sense of voyeurism in looking behind these closed doors, there is also the transmission of joy.
The tension between introspection and communion in these pictures, evident even in the most isolated scenes, is also present in Soth’s latest project, “I Know How Furiously Your Heart Is Beating,” a series, book and exhibition of portraits and interiors charged with vivid intimacy and a desire for connection. That project was influenced in part by the work of Walker Evans, whose photographs of a Hale County, Ala., kitchen and a sleeping James Agee are among the most telling images he’s curated here. “They’re not all sweet, internal pictures,” Soth said of the exhibit. But each of these domestic interiors creates its own fortress, suggesting the possibility of protection against the storms that surround us. In “Homestead Blizzard (from My Dakota),” by Rebecca Norris Webb, falling snow is pictured through lace-trimmed drapes. “There’s this beautiful warmth and light that hits the curtains,” Soth said, “making a sheet of solace against the cold world.” On view at the Photography Show, presented by Aipad, from April 4-7 at Pier 94 in New York, aipadshow.com. — REBECCA BENGAL
My second job in publishing was working as the web editor at The Paris Review, a literary magazine founded in 1953 by George Plimpton, Harold L. Humes and Peter Matthiessen while they were living abroad in Paris. There was an aesthetic element to the fashionable quarterly that I always appreciated (Plimpton was also famously social; he was friendly with Truman Capote, William Styron and Jacqueline Kennedy) and throughout Plimpton’s tenure, The Paris Review collaborated with artists whom Plimpton encountered, such as Sol LeWitt, Andy Warhol, Louise Bourgeois, Alex Katz and Helen Frankenthaler, to create original covers for the quarterly (which were also made into limited-edition posters). By the time I worked there, these posters were mere artifacts of an earlier life of The Paris Review. A faded Robert Motherwell print might have hung above the printer, say, or a Keith Haring print over the couch where the interns sat. As of this week, The Paris Review has teamed up with David Zwirner gallery so that prints are now available for sale once more. Looking at them, I can’t help but feel nostalgic for a time in literary New York that I never got to experience — and for the legacy of an editor who understood so well that art and writing were close cousins to each other. 0-,000, davidzwirner.com — THESSALY LA FORCE
Seen together, the latest additions to Louis Vuitton’s Objets Nomades collection — debuting within Palazzo Serbelloni at next week’s Salone del Mobile fair in Milan — mimic a tropical garden, one lush with curvilinear, organic shapes rendered in bright reds, greens and blues. Created in collaboration with designers near and far, the 10 new pieces feature various nods to flora: Japanese designer Tokujin Yoshioka’s Blossom vase, handcrafted from thick Murano glass, twists up like a tree root, while the Bulbo chair by the Brazil-based Campana Brothers envelops the sitter in a cluster of oversize yellow leather petals. Other pieces are more concerned with the human form: The Israeli duo Yael and Shay Alkalay, who met in Jerusalem before attending the Royal College of Art in London and founding their design firm, Raw Edges, will present a group of hand-painted textile-and-leather chairs whose soft edges and anthropomorphic details (a two-legged base, seats that slope upward like smiles) have earned them the name of Dolls. “The backrest and the base are clipped together,” says Yael, “almost like a hug.” Rather than make use of the Vuitton monogram, which appears elsewhere in the collection, she and Shay opted to reference the brand’s use of traditional leather work and, as the chairs make subtle references to Scotland, Mexico City and other destinations, its original raison d’être — travel. louisvuitton.com — MERRELL HAMBLETONB:
【这】【时】，【蒂】【芙】【尼】【停】【止】【了】【吃】【饭】，【跟】【金】【锤】【笑】【眯】【眯】【地】【说】【道】：“【小】【金】【锤】，【你】【可】【以】【跟】【我】【借】【钱】【呀】，【九】【出】【十】【三】【进】【就】【好】，【也】【不】【占】【你】【便】【宜】。” 【金】【锤】【冷】【汗】【连】【连】，【说】【道】：“【似】【乎】【有】【些】【太】【贵】【了】【吧】……” 【周】【城】【有】【点】【看】【不】【下】【去】【了】，【说】【道】：“【金】【锤】，【我】【借】【你】【吧】，【我】【身】【上】【还】【有】【点】【钱】。” 【金】【锤】【顿】【时】【向】【周】【城】【投】【以】【感】【激】【地】【目】【光】，【周】【城】【正】【想】【客】【气】【几】【句】，【表】【示】
【秦】【山】【深】【处】【魔】【洞】【中】，【剑】【随】【风】【单】【手】【持】【剑】，【一】【人】【独】【对】【邪】【异】【僵】【尸】【与】【狡】【诈】【蛇】【人】，【死】【死】【守】【住】【了】【鬼】【医】【到】【底】【的】【方】【寸】【之】【地】。 “【鬼】【医】，【你】【无】【事】【吧】。” 【再】【次】【将】【龇】【牙】【裂】【嘴】【的】【蛇】【人】【一】【剑】【逼】【退】，【剑】【随】【风】【瞅】【了】【眼】【倒】【在】【血】【泊】【之】【中】【一】【动】【不】【动】【的】【鬼】【医】。 【难】【不】【成】【死】【了】？ 【一】【脚】【踹】【开】【了】【个】【僵】【尸】，【剑】【随】【风】【纵】【身】【一】【跃】，【退】【到】【了】【鬼】【医】【身】【边】。【只】【见】【鬼】【医】【仍】【是】【一】【动】
【表】【明】【了】【来】【意】，【王】【珂】【和】【千】【仞】【岗】【来】【到】【了】【所】【谓】【的】【村】【长】【家】【里】。 【很】【小】【的】【地】【方】【积】【满】【了】【老】【人】【们】。 “【我】【们】【这】【里】【面】【的】【传】【送】【阵】【并】【不】【能】【对】【外】【人】【使】【用】，” 【得】【知】【这】【个】【消】【息】【之】【后】【王】【珂】【整】【个】【人】【有】【点】【懵】【逼】， 【关】【键】【是】【自】【己】【两】【个】【人】【已】【经】【来】【到】【了】【这】【个】【地】【方】【啊】。【说】【好】【的】【外】【人】【不】【能】【进】【来】【的】【呢】？ “【两】【位】【贵】【客】，【我】【的】【意】【思】【是】【说】【去】【西】【方】，【由】【于】【距】【离】【遥】【远】，平码藏宝图图片【放】【下】【紫】【沛】【儿】，【九】【尘】【兴】【奋】【的】【冲】【到】【凉】【亭】【的】【栏】【杆】【前】【朝】【着】【远】【处】【的】【两】【只】【鸭】【子】【大】【喊】【道】“【沛】【儿】【答】【应】【嫁】【给】【我】【啦】！！！”【声】【音】【震】【开】【吓】【得】【周】【围】【小】【鸟】【唰】【的】【全】【飞】【了】，【远】【处】【的】【那】【两】【只】【鸭】【子】【也】【吓】【得】【赶】【忙】【摆】【着】【尾】【巴】【游】【走】【了】。 【紫】【沛】【儿】【跺】【了】【跺】【脚】【脸】【更】【红】【了】【道】“【喊】【什】【么】【喊】，【想】【把】【别】【人】【都】【喊】【过】【来】【吗】。” “【沛】【儿】，【我】【想】【让】【整】【个】【五】【洲】【都】【知】【道】，【你】【紫】【沛】【儿】【是】【我】【的】
【中】【山】【国】，【毋】【极】【县】。 “【启】【禀】【张】【夫】【人】。”【管】【事】【甄】【凡】【趋】【步】【走】【进】，【对】【着】【堂】【中】【一】【脸】【愁】【容】【的】【女】【人】【毕】【恭】【毕】【敬】【地】【说】：“【温】【县】【司】【马】【氏】【家】【的】【二】【公】【子】【司】【马】【懿】，【目】【前】【正】【在】【庄】【外】【求】【见】。” 【管】【事】【的】【禀】【告】，【让】【本】【还】【是】【神】【游】【物】【外】，【思】【虑】【着】【其】【他】【事】【情】【的】【女】【人】【回】【过】【神】【来】。【她】【是】【甄】【逸】【的】【妻】【子】，【在】【丈】【夫】【死】【去】、【女】【儿】【即】【将】【出】【嫁】【的】【现】【在】，【也】【是】【如】【今】【毋】【极】【甄】【氏】【的】【掌】【权】
【老】【书】【被】【举】【报】【了】，【涉】【嫌】【校】【园】【暴】【力】【和】【黑】，【封】【了】。【编】【辑】【说】【大】【改】【大】【改】【还】【有】【机】【会】，【但】【我】【改】【一】【个】【字】【就】【流】【一】【滴】【眼】【泪】，【真】【没】【力】【气】【了】。 【一】【本】【原】【本】【就】【让】【我】【心】【痛】【遗】【憾】【的】【老】【书】，【就】【这】【么】【见】【不】【得】【好】【是】【不】【是】？【骂】【人】【的】【话】【我】【就】【不】【说】【了】，【懒】【得】【说】，【反】【正】【估】【计】【举】【报】【的】【人】【也】【看】【不】【见】，【说】【了】【没】【准】【他】【还】【高】【兴】【呢】，【对】【吧】。 【最】【近】【家】【里】【也】【乱】【的】【我】【分】【身】【乏】【术】，【感】【觉】【快】【闹】