Magazine publishing is a dark art. But the world of niche publishing—people who create magazines for necrophiliacs or donkey hobbyists, or for those of us who like to ride really small trains—features its own requirements.
Dirt is difficult to see on glass. That’s why so many people don’t bother to hire a professional for the job—they just can’t see what’s wrong.
Rough waters for Russia’s fabled Bolshoi Theatre have prompted soul-searching among the country’s dancers, officials, and fans.
Economic recession. Climate disaster. Chaos in the Middle East. The world cries out for leaders who will face our biggest dilemmas, and all we get are short-sighted narcissists. Where are the great leaders of today?
In early New England, anyone who stood near an open door or window faced mortal danger. A conversation with a woman who hunts for gravestones with epitaphs describing death by lightning strike.
Good old Earth was nearly destroyed, almost extinguished, and threatened with slaughter every hour in cinemas this summer. And yet, here we are. Our film critics pinpoint the collapse of the apocalypse genre.
Think baseball today is rotten from drugs and punks? A century ago, things weren’t much better. A brief history of baseball’s dark traditions—cheating, substance abuse, obscenity, violence—and the colorful players who brought them to life.
A literary gumshoe visits St. Petersburg to track down the so-called “ninja of Russian verse,” Elena Shvarts, who died in 2010 leaving almost nothing behind.
Originating on the South Side, drill music has attracted major labels to Chicago in search of young rappers—as gang violence turns the city into the murder capital. Each has everything to do with the other.
In the late 1870s, baseball was at risk of dying out before it even got started, strangled by a teetotaling, law-abiding, church-going new league. Then a German saloonkeeper in St. Louis got involved.
A reporter spends a season trailing one of London’s most infamous soccer clubs while its soul is rebuilt from scratch. From July, a cautionary tale—for New Yorkers, especially—of super fans, gonzo money, and the doctrine that is “organic football.”
For residents of Patsy Cline’s hometown of Winchester, Va., the struggle over how to remember the famous country singer begins with deciding what sort of a legacy she left—and whether they want it.