“We believe in the freaks, in their voices and stories and visions and spirit.
We believe in art that is fresh and intimate and fearless and weird.
We believe in art that is accessible to everyone.
“We believe in the freaks, in their voices and stories and visions and spirit.
We believe in art that is fresh and intimate and fearless and weird.
We believe in art that is accessible to everyone.
Kenny Leung, resident pianist of Larkin in Stern Hall, can’t read music. Instead, he can play any song he knows by ear. He’s known for his adaptive medley—listeners shout out a song while he is playing and he transitions into it effortlessly. When I sat down in the Larkin lounge with him and asked for a demonstration, Leung transitioned from Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop,” to frat party fav “Get Low,” to “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons.
When listening to Alex Clare’s The Lateness of the Hour on repeat for the past several months, I pictured Clare as dark, handsome, and brooding, a man whose soul poured like liquid from his throat. When I arrived at the Regency Ballroom on April 23rd for his concert, Clare turned out to be a rather short British redhead, complete with full beard and knitted beret, with an endearing awkwardness and a smile only slightly less jolly than Santa Claus.
Richard Powers fits right in at Stanford. One of the first people to have his genome decoded, he has worked as a computer programmer and planned to major in physics while studying at Urbana-Champaign. But most importantly, he’s a prolific novelist and National Book Award winner with his eleventh volume on the way. His work fuses his fascination with science, stemming from what Tobias Wolff called an “extraordinary wide-ranging curiosity,” with the humanity he ultimately finds within his characters and his readers.