Question: Who was the chef of the restaurant?

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

Answer: Ned Baldwin

<hl> We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. <hl> It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef <hl> Ned Baldwin <hl> on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.


Question: Where did they eat dinner?

Answer: Houseman

<hl> We were eating dinner at Houseman , a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. <hl> It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at <hl> Houseman <hl>, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at <hl> Houseman <hl> , a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square.


Question: What is the location called in SoHo?

Answer: Hudson Square

<hl> We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square . <hl> It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called <hl> Hudson Square <hl>. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called <hl> Hudson Square <hl> .


Question: What was grilled as a slab?

Answer: bread

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. <hl> There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread , a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. <hl> There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo, now called Hudson Square. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled <hl> bread <hl>, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled <hl> bread <hl> , a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage.


Question: Where was the restaurant located?

Answer: SoHo

<hl> We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of SoHo , now called Hudson Square. <hl> It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of <hl> SoHo <hl>, now called Hudson Square. It is a spare, welcoming room, with walls of white brick, warm lighting, smooth wooden tables the color of Bridgehampton sand — a neighborhood restaurant for those who live amid art and commerce, who travel widely, who want to eat simply and well. There was succulent roast chicken in front of us, and a confitted turkey leg accompanied by bacon and prunes and a slab of grilled bread, a shatteringly crisp fist of fried haddock, a few fingers of juicy sausage. There was a plate of roasted carrots with cottage cheese and pumpkin seeds. There were soft, perfect leeks with fried cauliflower, anchovies and bread crumbs that caught the light from the flickering votive candles on the table. This all made for superb eating.

We were eating dinner at Houseman, a restaurant opened by the chef Ned Baldwin on the once-quiet far-western side of <hl> SoHo <hl> , now called Hudson Square.


Question: Who makes the dressing?

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

Answer: Baumgart

<hl> For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. <hl> What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

For the dressing, which <hl> Baumgart <hl> builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’


Question: Where is the spice blend made from?

Answer: Middle Eastern

<hl> For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. <hl> What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the <hl> Middle Eastern <hl> spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’


Question: The results of the spices look like what?

Answer: dry and grainy

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. <hl> The result looks dry and grainy , as if something is wrong. <hl> But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks <hl> dry and grainy <hl>, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

The result looks <hl> dry and grainy <hl> , as if something is wrong.


Question: What was mixed into the dry spices?

Answer: olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. <hl> But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. <hl> ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But <hl> olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar <hl> (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘Let it sit for a while,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’


Question: What did Baumgard advise?

Answer: Let it sit for a while

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. <hl> ‘‘ Let it sit for a while ,’’ Baumgart advised. <hl> ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

For the dressing, which Baumgart builds out of what he calls ‘‘a deconstructed za’atar,’’ the Middle Eastern spice blend, some confidence is required. What seems an enormous amount of dried spices — ground fennel, sumac and coriander — is combined with chopped parsley and cilantro. The result looks dry and grainy, as if something is wrong. But olive oil, lime juice and white-wine vinegar (best available, please!) begin to smooth things out, and the cheese, pistachios and vinegar-plumped currants finish the job. ‘‘<hl> Let it sit for a while <hl>,’’ Baumgart advised. ‘‘Let those flavors come together.’’

‘‘ <hl> Let it sit for a while <hl> ,’’ Baumgart advised.


Question: What was the dish considered?

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set.’’ You will be, too.

Answer: weekend dish

<hl> Which makes it a weekend dish , probably? <hl> Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set. ’’ You will be, too.

Which makes it a <hl> weekend dish <hl>, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set.’’ You will be, too.

Which makes it a <hl> weekend dish <hl> , probably?


Question: What could you set the currants in?

Answer: vinegar

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. <hl> You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning <hl> and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set. ’’ You will be, too.

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in <hl> vinegar <hl> in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set.’’ You will be, too.


Question: Where does he eat alot of vegetarian food?

Answer: at home

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. <hl> ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home ,’’ Baumgart said. <hl> ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set. ’’ You will be, too.

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food <hl> at home <hl>,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set.’’ You will be, too.

‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food <hl> at home <hl> ,’’ Baumgart said.


Question: What should you pair the plate with?

Answer: braised greens, some good bread

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. <hl> I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread , and I’d be all set. <hl> ’’ You will be, too.

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of <hl> braised greens, some good bread <hl>, and I’d be all set.’’ You will be, too.

I’d pair this salad with a plate of <hl> braised greens, some good bread <hl> , and I’d be all set.


Question: What was the consitancy of the sauce?

Answer: thick and almost clumpy

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. <hl> And drape the sauce — thick and almost clumpy — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. <hl> It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set. ’’ You will be, too.

Which makes it a weekend dish, probably? Not necessarily. You could set the currants in vinegar in the morning and let them sit all day. Make the dressing in early evening as the squash roasts and cools. Then lay out the half moons across a platter that’s warmer than your room. And drape the sauce — <hl> thick and almost clumpy <hl> — across them, and onto the negative space between them as well. It seems like a lot of sauce. It isn’t, though, when there’s good bread to mop it up as your companions stab at the squash, at the little nuts, at the small dice of cheese. ‘‘I eat a lot of vegetarian food at home,’’ Baumgart said. ‘‘But I don’t necessarily like a vegetarian entree. I don’t like that as a concept at all. I’d pair this salad with a plate of braised greens, some good bread, and I’d be all set.’’ You will be, too.


Question: Who gave a statement in the article?

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”

Answer: Mr. Foxx

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. <hl> Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. <hl> “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. <hl> Mr. Foxx <hl> said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”


Question: What was Mr. Foxx's goal?

Answer: get the necessary parties to the table

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. <hl> “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table ,” he said. <hl> “Now, that table is set.”

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to <hl> get the necessary parties to the table <hl>,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”

“When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to <hl> get the necessary parties to the table <hl> ,” he said.


Question: What kind of agreements were they?

Answer: operating

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. <hl> The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. <hl> Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into <hl> operating <hl> agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”


Question: Is the table set?

Answer: table is set.

“Now, that table is set. ”

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. <hl> “Now, that table is set. ” <hl>

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that <hl> table is set. <hl>”


Question: Who did Port Authority enter into agreement with?

Answer: Amtrak

<hl> Under the agreement, the Port Authority and Amtrak will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. <hl> The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”

Under the agreement, the Port Authority and <hl> Amtrak <hl> will provide staff for the corporation, and the authority will arrange for office space and logistical support. The corporation will own the new tunnel and enter into operating agreements with railroads to use it. Mr. Foxx said the governing structure would help advance the project quickly. “When I sounded the alarm this summer, my goal was to get the necessary parties to the table,” he said. “Now, that table is set.”


Question: What is considered the most classical ballet of all times?

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

Answer: “The Sleeping Beauty”

<hl> The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. <hl> It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and <hl> “The Sleeping Beauty” <hl> (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.


Question: Who directed the Ballet Theater's production of "Beauty?"

Answer: Alexei Ratmansky

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. <hl> It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky , is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. <hl> Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by <hl> Alexei Ratmansky <hl>, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by <hl> Alexei Ratmansky <hl> , is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time.


Question: What is 19th-century ballet considered to be?

Answer: classics

<hl> The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics , and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. <hl> It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the <hl> classics <hl>, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the <hl> classics <hl> , and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical.


Question: How long has choreographer Marius Petipa been watching this particular ballet?

Answer: 40 years

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. <hl> I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. <hl> It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for <hl> 40 years <hl> — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.


Question: What suggestion is recommended in regards to the ballet "Sleeping Beauty?"

Answer: reconsider the classicism

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. <hl> Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should reconsider the classicism of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. <hl> I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.

The 19th-century ballets tend to be labeled the classics, and “The Sleeping Beauty” (1890) has long been considered the most classical. It’s fair to say that Ballet Theater’s production of “Beauty,” directed by Alexei Ratmansky, is the most historically informed and sensitive production of any classic in our time. Perhaps its most startling suggestion is that we should <hl> reconsider the classicism <hl> of its master-choreographer, Marius Petipa. I’ve been watching this ballet for 40 years — but here the lines, phrasing, steps, extensions, footwork, turn-out, story-telling and mood are all different from what I’ve known. It’ll take a lot of getting used to. But it’s so musical that it’s immediately persuasive.


Question: How many casts are being brought to the Metropolitan Opera House this week?

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.

Answer: five casts

<hl> The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. <hl> Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.

The week brings <hl> five casts <hl> at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.


Question: How does Mr. Ratmansky coach his casts?

Answer: casts with different textual options

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. <hl> Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options . <hl> There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his <hl> casts with different textual options <hl>. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.

Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his <hl> casts with different textual options <hl> .


Question: How many versions of the Lilac Fairy's solo variation in the prologue exists?

Answer: two

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. <hl> There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. <hl> In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, <hl> two <hl> versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.


Question: Name the performers from Thursday that performed in Act III?

Answer: Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. <hl> In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. <hl> They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, <hl> Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo <hl> (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.


Question: What technique did the two performers demonstrate during the Act?

Answer: supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side)

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. <hl> They instead perform supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography. <hl>

The week brings five casts at the Metropolitan Opera House. Having already seen five casts in the production’s opening season this March in California, I can attest that it’s rewarding to see them all — partly because Mr. Ratmansky has coached his casts with different textual options. There are, for example, two versions of the Lilac Fairy’s solo variation in the Prologue — both notated from the original St. Petersburg production. In the Act III wedding pas de deux, Sarah Lane and Herman Cornejo (on Thursday) eschew the celebrated and traditional fish dives. They instead perform <hl> supported pirouettes with an upright ending (one leg flourished to the side) <hl> — which is recorded in the notation as the original choreography.


Question: What animation studio does Peter Doctor work for?

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Answer: Pixar Animation Studios

<hl> Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios , part of the Walt Disney Company. <hl> His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for <hl> Pixar Animation Studios <hl>, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for <hl> Pixar Animation Studios <hl> , part of the Walt Disney Company.


Question: What is the film dead wake about?

Answer: the sinking of the Lusitania

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. <hl> READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania . <hl> It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about <hl> the sinking of the Lusitania <hl>. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about <hl> the sinking of the Lusitania <hl> .


Question: Who wrote river of shadows?

Answer: Rebecca Solnit

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. <hl> And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit , about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. <hl> Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by <hl> Rebecca Solnit <hl>, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by <hl> Rebecca Solnit <hl> , about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge.


Question: What is the lastest work credited to Peter Doctor?

Answer: Inside Out

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. <hl> His latest credit is “ Inside Out ,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. <hl> READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company. His latest credit is “<hl> Inside Out <hl>,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

His latest credit is “ <hl> Inside Out <hl> ,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote.


Question: What company is Pixar animation studios part of?

Answer: the Walt Disney Company

<hl> Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of the Walt Disney Company . <hl> His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of <hl> the Walt Disney Company <hl>. His latest credit is “Inside Out,” about the inner workings of a young girl’s brain, which he directed and co-wrote. READING I am finishing “Dead Wake,” by Erik Larson, about the sinking of the Lusitania. It cuts between the Lusitania and what’s going on there with specific passengers and then down to the submarine commander who was sailing around in this little cigar tube with very little communication. And I’m just starting “River of Shadows,” by Rebecca Solnit, about the photographer Eadweard Muybridge. Some of the early plates he did of animals in motion are studied to this day by animators. He also suffered a severe blow to the head and not long after that, he ended up killing his wife’s lover.

Pete Docter is a director, writer, animator and voice actor for Pixar Animation Studios, part of <hl> the Walt Disney Company <hl> .


Question: What instrument did Earl "Fatha" Hines play?

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

Answer: piano

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. <hl> He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. <hl> You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride <hl> piano <hl> player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.


Question: Which decades did Earl Hines have a big band during?

Answer: the ’30s and ’40s

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. <hl> He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s . <hl> You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in <hl> the ’30s and ’40s <hl>. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

He was a stride piano player who had a big band in <hl> the ’30s and ’40s <hl> .


Question: What has Peter Doctor been watching Lately from videos people sent to him from youtube?

Answer: Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” <hl> Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines , like what powered the early railroad. <hl> And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been <hl> Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines <hl>, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

Lately it’s been <hl> Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines <hl> , like what powered the early railroad.


Question: What are some of Peter Doctors Favorite Looney Tunes episodes?

Answer: “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic”

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. <hl> It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. <hl> FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but <hl> “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” <hl> are pretty funny. FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.


Question: What has Peter Doctor been following in instagram?

Answer: Walt_at_Disneyland

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. <hl> FOLLOWING Walt_at_Disneyland on Instagram. <hl> It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.

LISTENING Right now I’m really into Earl “Fatha” Hines. He was a stride piano player who had a big band in the ’30s and ’40s. You watch clips of him playing and what he’s doing just seems impossible. His left hand is leaping around playing the bass line and what would essentially be the accompanying guitar rhythm while his right hand is playing this really arrhythmic, somewhat modern sounding stuff. Geez, I really wish I could play stride piano — though not enough to actually practice. WATCHING I’m catching up on all the YouTube videos that people sent me over the five years of making “Inside Out.” Lately it’s been Laurel and Hardy shorts and clips of steam engines, like what powered the early railroad. And Warner Bros. “Looney Tunes” never get old. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but “Gorilla My Dreams” and “Hare Tonic” are pretty funny. FOLLOWING <hl> Walt_at_Disneyland <hl> on Instagram. It’s some guy who has found all these pictures of Walt Disney at Disneyland and he’s posting one a day. I don’t know how long it will be before he runs out.


Question: What comical event took place after a man falls dead in the latest Swedish filmmaker's movie

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

Answer: leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. <hl> In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink . <hl> In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, <hl> leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink <hl>. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, <hl> leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink <hl> .


Question: How are items often viewed in the Living trilogy

Answer: slightly askew

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. <hl> Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew , with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks. <hl>

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed <hl> slightly askew <hl>, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed <hl> slightly askew <hl> , with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.


Question: Which perception of life does the viewer perceive?

Answer: an indelible one.

<hl> The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. <hl> In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is <hl> an indelible one. <hl> Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.


Question: The theme that appears to run through the new works of this Swedish filmmaker is one of what?

Answer: blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. <hl> Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life . <hl> In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of <hl> blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life <hl>. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of <hl> blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life <hl> .


Question: The premiere of the new movie by this filmmaker will happen after which event?

Answer: retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. <hl> “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts . <hl> Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

The world this award-winning 72-year-old Swedish filmmaker creates is an indelible one. Populated by pasty-faced men in suits and assorted other hapless souls, his last three features have unfolded like a series of blackout sketches in what resemble preserved dioramas of life. In his newest, “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” a man drops dead in the capacious cafeteria of a cruise ship, leading the cashier to offer up the man’s tray of food and drink. In the back of the room, a diner’s hand shyly goes up: He’ll take the beer. “Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a <hl> retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts <hl>. Each shot in the features has the same deadpan, uncanny look, opening on a deep-focus view of some room or bar, viewed slightly askew, with muted gray or beige walls or sidewalks.

“Pigeon,” as Mr. Andersson has referred to it, opens June 3 at Film Forum, preceded by a <hl> retrospective at the Museum of Arts and Design showing the other two films in Mr. Anderson’s so-called “Living” trilogy as well as shorts <hl> .


Question: The urban bustle within the movie appears to be close to what?

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

Answer: some apocalyptic turning point

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. <hl> It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point . <hl> It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at <hl> some apocalyptic turning point <hl>. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at <hl> some apocalyptic turning point <hl> .


Question: What absurd humor infiltrates the piece?

Answer: jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. <hl> The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. <hl> The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes <hl> jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen <hl> — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.


Question: How might the audience see that film as conveying?

Answer: hyperreality

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. <hl> The “ hyperreality ,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. <hl> The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “<hl> hyperreality <hl>,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

The “ <hl> hyperreality <hl> ,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable.


Question: Periodically, the movie starts to sound like what other genre?

Answer: a musical.

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. <hl> The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: <hl> One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in <hl> a musical. <hl> “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.


Question: How do we know that the filmmaker's movie has a tone of inconsistency

Answer: bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. <hl> “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history : One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet. <hl>

“Songs From the Second Floor” (released here in 2002) remains Mr. Andersson’s comic masterpiece. It’s a pure and bizarre piece of millennial art, set amid perpetual traffic jams at some apocalyptic turning point. It loosely tracks a businessman who has burned down his own shop, but it also looks in on his insane son and others. The end of days looms — Mr. Andersson makes jokes about get-rich-quick crucifix salesmen — and over-the-top doomsday sights appear, like self-flagellating crowds, the dead rising and even a sacrificial rite. The “hyperreality,” as Mr. Andersson called it, makes for a forceful visual effect that is unforgettable. The same can be said of “You, the Living,” where the overarching conceit involves dreams being recounted for the camera and then dramatized. The filmmaker’s signature style is in effect, but occasional songs are added as in a musical. “Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with <hl> bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history <hl>: One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.

“Pigeon” takes another step away from reality with <hl> bewildering jumps between periods in Swedish history <hl> : One episode has the country’s 18th-century king riding into a modern bar to find a toilet.