It’s a patchwork. Like ice floes sliding and then becoming solid, and locking. Because once the story started, the engine of the story was Brooklyn itself…
—Paula Fox on Desperate Characters in Paris Review #170 [N.B. Link removed; no longer extant].
In the dressing room afterward, I asked Rawlings how he would describe his playing, and he said that he simply has a fondness for certain notes and he finds ways to play them. When I asked which notes they were, he shrugged and said, ‘The ghostly ones.’
—Alec Wilkinson on Gillian Welch and David Rawlings in last week’s New Yorker.
Those of us who caught [Wild Things] (a delightfully sleazy picture […] ) may welcome Campbell’s performance here—the sudden unaffected smile, so knowlingly put on; the slyly underplayed verbal thrusts; the catlike gaze—but won’t mistake it for anything new.
—Stewart Klawans reviewing When Will I Be Loved in The Nation.