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POP star Sabrina Carpenter pips it in the fashion stakes in a lemon yellow frock.

The Espresso singer, 27, donned a transparent Dior gown which showed off her white underwear.

And she clutched a ­yellow Dior handbag as the French fashion house showcased its new collection in Los Angeles.

Carpenter had also worn a Dior dress at the annual New York Met Gala, which paid homage to Audrey Hepburn’s 1954 film Sabrina.

She was joined at the Dior show by The Queen’s Gambit actress Anya Taylor-Joy, 30, who was in a black cut-out frock.

This comes off the back of Sabrina’s sensational headline concerts at Coachella last month.

Read more on Sabrina Carpenter

FILM STAR SAB

Sabrina Carpenter rocks tight-fitting frock with thigh-high slit at Met Gala

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Barry Keoghan breaks silence on Sabrina Carpenter cheating rumours

The singer delivered a set dubbed “Sabrinawood” with a Hollywood-themed set across two weekends on April 10 and 17.

Her shows featured some very iconic cameos from the likes of Madonna, Susan Sarandon, Will Ferrell, and Sam Elliott.

The setlist highlighted her most recent album Man’s Best Friend.

But it also included some of her biggest hits like Espresso and Feather.

Football has gained a foothold in the United States, and the country seems ready to host the World Cup this summer – which was not clear in 1994.

Back then, when the US last hosted the World Cup, the country had no professional league and the national team was cobbled together with ex-collegians, journeymen, and semi-professionals.

“Leading into ’94, we were at risk on the ticket side,” former US Soccer President Sunil Gulati told Al Jazeera in a recent interview. “For the US Organizing Committee, it was a big concern if we could sell all the tickets.’’

In the end, the 1994 tournament was successful. A record 3.5 million (68,991 per game) attended matches; the US advanced from the group stage for the first time since 1930, losing 1-0 to eventual champions Brazil in the last 16; and seeds were planted for a professional league, Major League Soccer.

Football has since moved from the margins to the mainstream in the US.

MLS is thriving, the national team is ranked a creditable 16th in the world by FIFA, and as the World Cup returns this summer, ticket demand far outpaces supply.

“If you said in 1994 MLS would be a 30-team league, with [22] soccer-specific stadiums and averaging 20,000 crowds – not in our wildest dreams,” Gulati said.

“The landscape is completely different. The most visible thing is the development of professional leagues, MLS and the women’s league [NWSL]. We had no first division league. And now there is [also] USL Division 2 and 3. The number of teams has increased dramatically.”

Today, the US Soccer Federation, commonly referred to as US Soccer, sanctions 127 professional teams – 102 men’s and 25 women’s.

“Eighteen of the top 50 [valued] teams in the world are in MLS,” Gulati said. “That’s an extraordinary statistic. The women’s team in Columbus just sold for $205m. Commercial interest in soccer and soccer leagues is at an all-time high.”

Credit Joao Havelange for seeing the future. During his reign as FIFA president, Havelange usually got what he wanted, and he wanted the 1994 World Cup in the US, along with a professional league.

Easier said than done, though. Organised football has been played in the US since the late 19th century, with the American Cup inaugurated in 1884. But over the following decades, several professional leagues collapsed, and after the North American Soccer League (NASL) folded in 1984, there appeared to be little future for the game. Enter Havelange and FIFA.

“FIFA recognised a long time ago that, for the sport to grow internationally, it had to be successful in the US,” Farrukh Quraishi, a Tampa, Florida-based administrator who played in the NASL, told Al Jazeera.

“For me, it was purely a matter of time. This is a huge and wealthy market. Now, you look at who is buying clubs in MLS, and it’s a who’s who of NFL owners.”

Looking back, it’s remarkable that the US actually competed in World Cups and played host to one at all, without a nationwide professional league.

For years, football’s foundation in the country was built on amateur and youth participation. By the early 1990s, the numbers were high, with an estimated 18 million people playing the sport at some level in the US. But the pyramid lacked a top tier, leaving a dead end for aspiring players, little media coverage, and scattered fan interest.

The 1994 World Cup came and went, and, in 1996, MLS finally kicked off.

Havelange duly arrived to commemorate the inaugural game, sitting in the rickety stands of Spartan Stadium in San Jose, California.

The San Jose Clash edged DC United 1-0, as Eric Wynalda scored an 88th-minute goal – just in time to avoid the game going to a “shootout”, in which draws were decided by players going one-on-one with goalkeepers from 32 metres (35 yards) out. This novel method of deciding games ended in 2000.

Football-specific stadiums started springing up in 1999. Lamar Hunt’s Columbus Crew Stadium became the country’s first major purpose-built football venue since Mark’s Stadium in Fall River, Massachusetts, in 1922. Now, Columbus are on their second stadium, the ScottsMiracle-Gro Field, and a total of 22 MLS teams compete at their own venues.

Football finally became part of the American sporting scene.

“Is it in the same way as the NFL, with [average figures of more than 18 million] watching it, or the American Pastime that baseball is? No,” Gulati said.

“It’s not at that viewership level, [but] there is worldwide coverage of games. Look at everyone wearing jerseys on the street, Lionel Messi playing in Miami. It is part of the mainstream.”

‘Soccer still isn’t king in the US’

Not that the picture is not flawed. Wynalda, who went on to score 34 goals in 106 games for the US national team, sees the current system as a recipe for mediocrity, registering millions of youngsters but limiting their ambition as few US players take up prominent roles on MLS teams.

Most are offered the league’s minimum annual salary ($80,622) and only two US players were listed last year among the top 40 highest-paid, according to the MLS Players Association – Austin FC forward Brandon Vazquez (24th at $3.55m) and Nashville SC defender Walker Zimmerman (27th at $3.45m).

“Look at the growth of [MLS] and you can say soccer looks professional, looks like a big deal, looks major league. And a lot of people look at the sport with a different lens now because it’s a legitimate sport,” Wynalda, now a coach and commentator, told Al Jazeera.

“[But] facilities do not create ability. We need more focus on a competitive environment to develop players. We tell them winning doesn’t matter and then wonder why they can’t win. We’ve lost that competitive mentality.”

He favours introducing promotion/relegation as a solution.

“If you’re going to a team that is never going to be relegated, because it’s got enough money, you never learn how to fight relegation, how to beat 11 angry men with their livelihood on the line,” Wynalda said.

And while the MLS franchise model has created riches, with teams valued as high as Los Angeles FC at $1.25bn (thanks to owning the 22,000-seat BMO Stadium) by Forbes Magazine, the quality of play does not always correspond.

MLS teams have tended to struggle in CONCACAF competitions, although in 2022 the Seattle Sounders ended a 22-year drought for an MLS side to win the federation’s elite competition, which was previously won by DC United in 1998 and LA Galaxy in 2000.

“There are things we agree with and disagree with, on and off the field, but [MLS] is successful,” Fox Sports commentator Alexi Lalas, a central defender for the US in 1994, told Al Jazeera. “I don’t think you can argue against that.”

Thanks to the 1994 WC and MLS, football in the US became “a very different world, to finally be even recognised for what you did, let alone respected”, Lalas said. “You know, soccer still isn’t king in the US, but, let’s be honest, it’s part of the palate and certainly part of the landscape when it comes to this generation.”

Lalas predicts the US will harness the “magic” of being hosts to reach the quarterfinals, while Gulati expects the sport to continue to grow in the US after the World Cup.

“That is what the legacy of the tournament is about and why we bid,” Gulati said.

Ticket buyer: Alec Mackie of Los Angeles

Events: Men’s baseball gold medal finals, women’s basketball gold medal finals, men’s soccer gold medal finals, swimming preliminary and tennis quarter final mixed doubles

Thoughts: ”My uncle made a spreadsheet. The tickets are for me, my uncle, friends and I’m hoping to take my nephew as well. I was 10 years old at the 1984 Olympics and got to go to gymnastics, swimming and closing ceremonies, and my nephew will be 10 in 2028. I know L.A. is going to have an amazing Olympics, we are Los Angeles! Ten million creative, beautiful people, always dreaming and we know how to wow people. I can’t wait and hopefully traffic is smooth, a glamorous sequel to ’84.”

Gray skies didn’t prevent L.A.’s arts community from getting fancy in support of the Hammer Museum’s annual Gala in the Garden. Adorned in fur coats, colorful sunglasses and patterned ties, artists and celebrities including Owen Wilson, Rufus Wainwright, Lauren Halsey and Catherine Opie joined to celebrate gala honorees Betye Saar and television writer and producer Darren Star.

The event highlighted how the Westwood-based museum inspires creatives and harnesses community for the city’s artists. Under pink and yellow lights, guests enjoyed cocktails while admiring the museum’s galleries. Guests, including Los Angles County Museum of Art Director and Chief Executive Michael Govan and the Hammer’s Director Emerita Ann Philbin, reunited with old friends and colleagues, making the event feel like a family affair.

All were unified in their admiration of the night’s guests of honor.

At 99, Saar is among L.A.’s most esteemed and accomplished living artists. Her career has spanned more than seven decades, with an early focus on rejecting white feminism and reclaiming the Black female body. Civil rights activist Angela Davis traced the start of the Black women’s movement to the creation of Saar’s 1972 assemblage piece, “The Liberation of Aunt Jemima.”

During onstage comments at the gala, Getty Research Institute presidential scholar Sandra Jackson-Dumont discussed the massive impact Saar has had on the art world.

“It measures in the artist who found their voice because you insisted that your voice mattered. It’s in the institutions that shifted because you demanded that they see us,” Jackson-Dumont said while introducing Saar to the stage. “You take what the world cast aside and breathe spirit into it, insisting that the overlooked can speak, that the discarded can testify, that the everyday can dream.”

Ann Philbin, from left, director emerita, Hammer Museum, Kohshin Finley and Lauren Halsey attend the Hammer Museum’s 2026 Gala in the Garden.

(Stefanie Keenan / Getty Images for Hammer Museum)

The event also served as an early celebration for Saar’s 100th birthday in July, with Jackson-Dumont calling her birthday “100 years of vision. 100 years of courage.”

“[It’s] not 100 years of working, of making art, but 100 years of living with eyes wide open, heart attuned, spirit unbound, we stand in awe,” Jackson-Dumont said.

Saar took to the stage amid a resounding standing ovation, and when she spoke, the crowd’s gaze remained intently on her. While Saar kept her remarks short, she talked about the importance of art in everyday life.

“So many people do not realize how important art is, how it affects everything we do. Even bad things, because you can take art and make it good,” Saar said. “I want to thank you for coming to this event because by you being here, it encourages a lot of other people who are not here to love art and to use art and to know how important art is in this foreign life.”

Netflix co-Chief Executive Ted Sarandos introduced Star, who created groundbreaking series including “Beverly Hills, 90210,” “Sex and the City,” “Younger” and “Emily in Paris,” which defined pop culture references for generations of television viewers.

Sarandos called it a “privilege” to work with Star, explaining that his work has an “enduring staying power” and that “there has never been a storyline that is too bats— crazy for Darren.”

“Darren is simply one of the most talented showrunners of his generation, with his finger on the pulse of pop culture for more than three decades,” Sarandos said. “He influences the clothes we wear, the way we cut our hair, the music we listen to and the dreams we dream.”

Star, who has long served on the Hammer’s board of directors, celebrated his honor by explaining what he loves about the museum, including its Alice Waters’ restaurant Lulu, and the environment the space provides for Los Angeles creatives.

The view from above the courtyard at the Hammer Museum’s 2026 Gala in the Garden, which honored artist Beye Saar and television writer and producer Darren Star.

(Charley Gallay / Getty Images for Hammer Museum)

“The Hammer creates a wonderful community. We come together because we all love art, love Los Angeles and love this museum,” Star said. “I’m grateful to be part of this family and the city’s extraordinary artistic life.”

The gala was the second under the leadership of Hammer Museum Director Zoë Ryan, who succeeded longtime director Ann Philbin in January 2025. Former Los Angeles City Council President Joel Wachs called Ryan a “true scholar, open-minded, unflappable.”

“I believe she is exactly the kind of strong leader this institution needs in these really difficult, complicated and turbulent times,” Wachs said during his opening remarks. “And if anyone can be counted upon, I believe it’s her that will vigorously defend against the grave dangers and vicious attacks on freedom of expression that both museums and universities currently face.”

During her speech Ryan said the Hammer is “cherished” by the Los Angeles community, and that she intends to keep providing a space for creatives in the city.

“At the heart of the Hammer is a deep commitment to giving space to artists, bold and experimental ideas, and supporting audiences as a catalyst for change through dialogue and exchange — all much needed in this country right now.”

WASHINGTON — Directly outside the Washington Hilton ballroom, as the yearly White House Correspondents’ Assn. dinner got underway Saturday, a Times reporter had just entered the men’s room when he heard a handful of loud pops ring out.

“Shooter!” someone shouted. “Get down! Shots fired!”

Inside the ballroom, thousands of journalists and politicians began to duck for cover as the event devolved from a celebration of free speech to a scene of fear.

The Times had six reporters at the dinner, seated at a table near the right side of the stage.

The Times reporter in the restroom, Gavin Quinton, heard the gunfire around 8:30 p.m. He had left The Times’ table minutes earlier, moving past the TV cameras and up toward the raised terrace near the ballroom’s security entrance. He crossed paths with CNN anchor Wolf Blitzer.

Outside the restroom, Cole Tomas Allen, 31, had broken into a sprint through the metal detectors, security footage would later show, getting within feet of the ballroom entrance.

Five or six shots fired by Secret Service agents missed Allen before agents brought him down near a staircase leading to the main floor, where Trump sat prominently in view.

A federal agent was hit in the chest in the exchange of gunfire but was wearing a bullet-proof vest and not seriously injured.

Inside the restroom, Quinton crouched near a corner. Others rushed into the room, including three hotel security guards who flung themselves in so quickly their backs slammed against the tiled wall. Within moments, a Secret Service agent positioned himself at the bathroom entrance, his pistol drawn.

“Head count?” he asked.

“A dozen — no, 15!” someone shouted back.

People stayed locked in bathroom stalls. Some tried to overcome the poor cellphone service to call loved ones. Confused, the mix of tuxedo-clad attendees, uniformed hotel guards and waitstaff tried to piece together what had happened.

“He had a gun,” one of the hotel guards said.

Another witness told Quinton that he initially thought Blitzer had been the shooter’s target.

“I look around and I hear shots as I’m opening the door. And I turn and I see him,” the man said of the gunman. “I look again and I’m like, ‘Oh, they just shot someone.’ ”

Blitzer, who was tackled to the floor by officers during the incident, would later say that “the first thing that went through my mind was whether he was going to shoot me.”

As the group speculated over whether the shooter had died in the volley, one man wondered aloud whether the event would continue. Initially thinking the gunman must have been killed, Quinton replied no.

“Why not?” the man asked. “It’s a bad guy who’s dead. It was a good f— ending. Seriously.”

The Washington Hilton has hosted the annual correspondents’ dinner for decades. The event, referred to locally as “Nerd Prom,” now comes with a slate of pre-parties and after-parties.

This was the president’s first appearance at the dinner since 2015; he had skipped it during his entire first term.

Questions now surround the security protocols. Guests faced little screening to enter the hotel on Saturday — a quick flash of a paper ticket — before heading down escalators to the only area with magnetometers, where bags were also searched.

Trump had entered the ballroom at 8:15 p.m. as the Marine band played “Hail to the Chief.”

Twenty minutes later, videos show, Secret Service officers with ballistic vests and long guns barked instructions to clear a path as they rushed into the ballroom and onto the stage.

One agent pulled Vice President JD Vance away. Another escorted Trump, who appeared to trip, but later explained he had been urged to drop to the floor.

Other officials — Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, FBI Director Kash Patel, Homeland Security advisor Stephen Miller — were quickly whisked away too.

At The Times’ table in the ballroom, nothing appeared amiss at first.

Waiters had just begun to clear plates of spring pea and burrata salad. The reporters did not hear the gunshots, but watched as the room fell silent and others began to drop from their seats and duck under the floor-length white tablecloths.

One reporter lost a shoe in the process and then feared a gunman would spot it. She dragged it under the table.

They stayed in place for several minutes, texting loved ones and waiting for an all-clear, but none came.

From under the tablecloth, reporters heard someone yell out, “God bless America! USA!” They feared that was the shooter.

It turned out to be Dan Scavino, White House deputy chief of staff. The chant did not catch on.

Eventually, others could be heard speaking loudly and dishes clanking. Guests began to peek out from under their tables and warily stand up. Uneasy laughter flickered about the ballroom.

Cellphone service inside the ballroom was spotty. There was confusion at first about whether a shooting had occurred or whether plates dropping to the floor had been mistaken for gunshots.

“I thought it was a tray going down,” Trump said later.

Just before 9 p.m., Weijia Jiang, a senior White House correspondent for CBS News who is president of the White House Correspondents’ Assn., told guests the program would “resume momentarily.”

A half hour later, Jiang returned to the stage and announced that law enforcement had requested guests leave the premises. She said Trump had told her no one was hurt and that he, the first lady and members of the Cabinet were safe.

In closing remarks, Jiang said journalism is a public service “because when there is an emergency, we run to the crisis — not away from it.”

“And on a night when we are thinking about the freedoms of the 1st Amendment, we must also think about how fragile they are,” she said. “I saw all of you reporting, and that’s what we do.”

Law enforcement and media leaders offered conflicting guidance. Quinton was among the first to evacuate the building, though the vast majority of guests waited inside for longer.

On his way out, he noticed a metal detector had already partially been dismantled when the shooter ran through.

Quinton passed the grounded shooter, restrained on his stomach, near the staircase just 20 or so feet from the bathroom entrance. He lifted his phone and recorded a brief, shaky video of the scene before security forced him out of the hotel and onto the street.

The entire spectrum of emotion was on display when security finally ordered everyone to evacuate. Women in gowns ran in fear. One man sobbed into the sleeves of his evening jacket.

Photos on social media showed others stopping to take selfies. Some drank wine straight form the bottle.

Quinton spotted the presidential motorcade outside of the hotel lobby at about 8:45 p.m. Around the same time, an ambulance arrived as about 100 event attendees were escorted out of the secured event perimeter.

More law enforcement was inside the hotel as guests exited the building, including agents from the Secret Service, ATF, FBI and the Department of Homeland Security. National Guard soldiers replaced celebrities and politicians at the red carpet entrance.

Outside, Metropolitan police ushered people north on Columbia Road NW. Hungry guests in tuxedos filed into a nearby 7-Eleven. The dinner’s main course — prime beef and Maine lobster — had not been served.

At the White House afterward, Trump said the event would be rescheduled.

“We’re not going to let anybody take over our society,” he told reporters who had rushed to the news conference still dressed in gowns and black tie. “We’re not going to cancel things out because we can’t do that.”

Meanwhile, the night’s after-parties continued, though organizers attempted a more somber tone. MS NOW, for instance, told those who had RSVP’d that their “Democracy After Hours” party would be a “space for friends and colleagues to be together.”

Independent journalist Tara Palmeri posted a photo on the social media site X of a full party with blue mood lighting.

“People were still partying, still hitting WHCD afterparties last night,” she wrote. “Epstein corruption, an escalating Iran conflict, and an active shooter— and Washington just… kept going. The cognitive dissonance is the system.”

On Sunday morning, the Washington Hilton appeared back to normal, except for the presence of journalists using the hotel as a backdrop for their live shots.

The Fitzpatricks missed the cut in last year’s Zurich Classic and finished in a tie for 11th in 2024.

But this victory earns them a cheque worth £1m.

“It was a struggle,” Matt, who won the 2022 US Open, said.

“I was doing zero to help him but he was fantastic on the back nine. I said ‘just give us a chance on the last to hit a bunker shot like that’.”

“It means the world. I’m absolutely speechless, it was a grind today but he was unbelievable and I could not be more proud.”

The event was played over four rounds, with teams of two alternating between fourball (best ball) in the first and third rounds and foursomes (alternate shot) in the second and fourth rounds.

Matt, 31, already had two wins this year, including last week’s RBC Heritage.

WASHINGTON — An attack on the White House correspondents’ dinner by a gunman who came within feet of the ballroom where President Trump sat raised immediate questions about the night’s security protocol — and the future of large, high-profile events in a country with easy access to firearms and increasingly high political tensions.

The man breached metal detectors in front of the Washington Hilton ballroom and sprinted dozens of feet ahead before exchanging fire with federal agents. Shots were fired in an anteroom that had not an hour before seen thousands of guests, including senior government officials, streaming through.

A manifesto allegedly written by the suspect described his targets as members of the Trump administration, ranking from the highest to the lowest — but said he was willing to “go through” any guest standing in his way in order to kill the president’s aides.

The attempted attack on a room full of dignitaries underscored domestic unrest in Trump’s second term and deepened questions about how to effectively create security in a modern era of lone actors, online radicalization and mass shootings. It was the third known time an attempted assassin has come close to Trump since his 2024 presidential campaign began.

Acting Atty. Gen. Todd Blanche on Sunday called the U.S. Secret Service response a “massive security success story.” But within hours of the incident, bipartisan leaders of the House Oversight Committee demanded a hearing on the agency’s security plans for the dinner.

In the manifesto sent to his family, the alleged gunman, Cole Tomas Allen, of Torrance, marveled at a lack of security.

“No damn security. Not in transport. Not in the hotel. Not in the event,” he wrote. “I walk in with multiple weapons and not a single person there considers the possibility that I could be a threat.”

The Hilton, in a ritzy Washington neighborhood, has long hosted the White House correspondents’ dinner. It is the same hotel where President Reagan and three others were shot in 1981.

The shooting caused terror among guests, some of whom noted they had expected more security to enter the event and Trump was whisked offstage within the first minute of shots being fired. While the event has traditionally hosted sitting presidents in the past, Trump’s decision this year to appear for the first time since taking office made the event particularly high profile.

His presence, alongside Vice President JD Vance and much of the Cabinet and line of succession, brought with it added security protocols and personnel — raising questions over whether the storied dinner and its guests of congressional members, diplomats and mid-level officials would have been even more susceptible to attack without Trump in attendance.

Trump on Sunday said it is “tough” to secure a hotel in the middle of a city with “buildings all around and hotel rooms on top,” but praised the Secret Service and law enforcement officers. One officer was shot, not fatally.

Talking to reporters after the incident Saturday night, Trump swiftly likened it to the attempt on his life by a gunman in Butler, Pa., during the 2024 presidential campaign, and suggested that it justified his controversial plans to construct a fortified ballroom on the White House grounds. He called the hotel “not a particularly secure building,” though he later said the room was “very, very secure.”

Plans to reschedule the dinner are under review. White House Correspondents’ Assn. President Wiejia Jiang of CBS News said the organization’s board would meet to assess what had happened.

Blanche said Sunday an investigation into what had happened was ongoing. He had attended a reception before the dinner on the first floor of the hotel hosted by CBS News, one of many that did not require any security check by law enforcement authorities.

“The first takeaway, or the takeaway that should be obvious, is that the system worked. And that we stopped the suspect, and we stopped him as soon as he tried to do what he was trying to do,” Blanche said on NBC’s “Meet the Press.”

But the attack raises a question about whether presidential security protocols are effective for modern tactics, or whether the country is “in a new domain” in which those procedures no longer meet the nature of the possible threats, said Neil Shortland, director of the Center for Terrorism and Security Studies at the University of Massachusetts Lowell.

Federal investigators should examine what the security policies were, what type of attacks they were designed to prevent, and whether that protocol was out of date, Shortland said.

“Did you follow the policy is a great question,” he said. “Was the policy correct in this modern day and for this modern situation is a separate question.”

The country is facing “the most complex threat environment in our nation’s history,” particularly from lone actors who are often radicalized online, Sam Vinograd, a former official at the Department of Homeland Security, said on CBS’ “Face the Nation.”

“It can be true that law enforcement and intelligence professionals prepared exhaustively for last night,” she said Sunday. “But it can also be true that in this moment, in this security environment, the paradigms of the past may not be sufficient to meet the moment.”

That raises the “need to rethink what it is going to take to actually secure these mass gatherings,” she said.

Trump appeared to voice the same idea Saturday evening, telling reporters, “Today, we need levels of security that probably nobody’s ever seen before.” He went on to say that “this is why we have to have” the East Wing ballroom, which he described as drone-proof and having bulletproof glass.

Kris Brown, president of the gun control organization Brady — which is named after Reagan’s press secretary, James Brady, who was shot in the 1981 attack — said lawmakers should instead consider passing legislation to help prevent gun violence.

“Not every public event can take place in the ballroom, in that kind of protection — nor can we afford to live in a society where our solution to gun violence is to barricade our public officials, our children, away in fortresses,” Brown said.

About 2,000 journalists, dignitaries and other guests attended the event, rushing through rain to enter using multiple hotel entrances. They were asked to show their tickets as they walked past security guards, but there was no check-in procedure or ID check. A Times reporter was waved toward the entrance without showing a ticket as she tried to get it out of her purse.

Inside, guests milled about on multiple levels where pre-dinner receptions were occurring. Hotel guests mingled with the crowd, granted full access to the hotel’s amenities, including its boutiques and restaurants.

Two protesters briefly took over a small red carpet where guests were lined up to take professional photos; Times reporters saw a third woman dressed in a formal gown and shouting protest slogans being escorted out by security guards after apparently having entered the event.

Guests were required to flash their tickets to go down an escalator to the ballroom level, then present the ticket before walking through metal detectors and having bags searched ahead of the ballroom entrance.

Allen, who had reserved a room as a hotel guest, said in his manifesto obtained by the New York Post that security was far less stringent than he had expected. Two U.S. officials told The Times that the contents of the manifesto are authentic.

“I expected security cameras at every bend, bugged hotel rooms, armed agents every 10 feet, metal detectors out the wazoo. What I got (who knows, maybe they’re pranking me!) is nothing,” he wrote.

He noted that security guards appeared to be focused on protesters and arrivals outside, writing, “apparently no one thought about what happens if someone checks in the day before.”

It is possible that steps to further restrict access to the ballroom level, keep guests away from the event location and check attendees’ identities outside could have provided additional security, said Erin Kearns, director of law enforcement partnerships at the National Counterterrorism Innovation, Technology and Education Center.

“The lesson that can be taken away is just thinking about how to harden and strengthen security at future events when you have so many high-profile people,” she said.

The hotel was a “soft target” with a makeshift perimeter, and there were “almost zero intervention points” where the shooter could have been apprehended before arriving, Shortland said. That was partly because he traveled by train, which does not have security screenings.

Authorities should also examine whether Allen was known to authorities and, if so, whether intelligence operatives could have pieced together his train travel and arrival in the president’s orbit, Shortland said.

The attempted shooting added to a growing list of instances of political violence in the United States. Last year, one Minnesota state legislator and her spouse were killed by a gunman while another lawmaker and his wife survived; the conservative activist Charlie Kirk — whose wife, Erika, was in attendance Saturday — was shot and killed at a speaking event; an arsonist attacked the residence of Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro.

Some of that violence has been directed toward Trump, something he frequently talks about. He was injured in the Butler incident, but has used his survival to argue that God saved him so he could become president. Two months later, a Secret Service agent shot at a gunman pointing a rifle on Trump’s golf course as the president golfed.

On Feb. 22, an armed man was shot and killed after entering the secure perimeter around Trump’s Mar-a-Lago home, when the president was in Washington.

“It’s always shocking when something like this happens. It’s happened to me a little bit,” Trump said Saturday.

Prominent Democratic governors, some considering 2028 presidential bids, gathered Thursday in Los Angeles for a high-dollar fundraiser.

Tickets to attend the event cost up to $100,000, according to an invitation. Closed to the press, it was expected to raise more than $1.5 million for the Democratic Governors Assn., among the largest amount the group has ever raised at a fundraiser in Los Angeles.

Gov. Gavin Newsom introduced fellow Democratic Govs. Andy Beshear of Kentucky, Maura Healey of Massachusetts, Laura Kelly of Kansas, Katie Hobbs of Arizona, Wes Moore of Maryland, Josh Stein of North Carolina, Tim Walz of Minnesota and Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan.

Several attendees, including Newson, Beshear and Whitmore, are widely believed to be eyeing a presidential run in 2028. Walz was then-Vice President Kamala Harris’ running mate in her unsuccessful 2024 bid for the presidency.

Beshear moderated the conversation among the state leaders at the Los Angeles-area home of liquor heiress Ellen Bronfman Hauptman and her husband, former Chicago Fire soccer club owner Andrew Hauptman. Attendees enjoyed cocktails and passed hors d’oeuvres
around the pool before settling in for a conversation in the house that focused on how governors must focus on results more than ideological disputes, and how that ought to be a model for federal elected officials.

About 45 donors attended, including Damon Lindelof, the creator of “Lost,” and Scott Budnick, the executive producer of “The Hangover” movie series. Others who supported the event included director J.J. Abrams and former Walt Disney Studios Chairman Alan Horn.

Michael Jackson’s famous clan stepped out to celebrate the premiere of the new “Michael” biopic, but some of the Jacksons snubbed the event and have opposed the film.

On Monday at the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood, several members of the Jackson family gushed about the Antoine Fuqua-helmed film, which depicts the origin story of the King of Pop and follows the hitmaker from childhood through his upward trajectory to superstar status in the 1980s.

Michael Jackson’s nephew Jaafar Jackson, son of Jermaine Jackson, starred in the title role, and his aunts and uncles dropped accolades for his performance in red carpet interviews. Marlon Jackson said, “Watching the movie, sometimes we think we’re watching Michael up there, that’s how good he is.”

La Toya Jackson called his performance “absolutely excellent” and echoed Marlon, saying that she forgot she was watching Jaafar: “I thought I was watching my brother.”

But not all of the Jacksons were up for celebrating the film. Most notably absent were the “Beat It” singer’s pop star sister, Janet Jackson, and his daughter, Paris Jackson. The eldest of the siblings, Rebbie Jackson, also skipped the event. And although the film includes portrayals of many of the Jackson siblings, some also asked to be left out of the biopic, including Janet.

“I wish everybody was in the movie,” La Toya Jackson told Variety at the premiere. “She was asked and she kindly declined, so you have to respect her wishes.”

Last month, rumors began to swirl that the “All for You” singer attended a family screening of the film and wasn’t pleased. Page Six reported that Janet and Jermaine got into a spat, with Janet critiquing almost every scene.

At Monday’s premiere, “Entertainment Tonight” asked La Toya about the controversy, which she was quick to shut down. “There was absolutely no problem whatsoever, none whatsoever,” she said. “Please believe it.”

Although both of Michael Jackson’s sons, Prince and Bigi, have supported events for the film (Prince attended Monday’s premiere, and Bigi attended a Berlin premiere last week), and Prince served as an executive producer and was regularly on set, Paris Jackson has been vocal about her lack of involvement.

Last year, she posted on social media that she gave feedback on an early draft of the film, but her notes weren’t addressed. “I’ve left it alone,” she said. “It’s not my project, they’re going to make whatever they’re going to make.”

Paris Jackson, who works in the entertainment industry as a model, actor and musician, said she had stayed quiet about her feelings toward the “sugar-coated” project because she knew many people would be happy with it. “The film panders to a very specific section of my dad’s fandom that still lives in the fantasy,” she said.

“The thing about these biopics is, it’s Hollywood. It’s fantasy land. It’s not real, but it’s sold to you as real,” she continued. “The narrative is being controlled, and there’s a lot of inaccuracy, and there’s a lot of full blown lies, and at the end of the day, that doesn’t really fly with me.”

In earlier drafts of the “Michael” script, plot points included sexual abuse allegations brought by 13-year-old Jordan Chandler in 1993. Reportedly, the Michael Jackson estate became aware of a contract that legally barred the dramatization of the Chandler family and had to scrap parts of the script.

The film was originally set to premiere last year, but the production needed a new ending and weeks of reshoots to make the new iteration of the film work. In the version that hit theaters this week, “Michael” concludes in 1988, with a teaser for a potential Part 2.

Colman Domingo and Nia Long, who portray Michael Jackson’s parents, Joe and Katherine Jackson, appeared on “Today” this week and addressed the elephant in the movie theater.

“The film takes place from the ‘60s to 1988, so it does not go into the first allegations,” Domingo said. “Basically, we center it on the makings of Michael. So it’s an intimate portrait of who Michael is … through his eyes. So that’s what this film is.

“And there’s a possibility of there being a Part 2 that may deal with some other things that happen afterward,” he continued. “This is about the making of Michael, how he was raised, and then how he was trying to find his voice as an artist and be a solo artist.”

Long added that there might be a sequel, “if the price is right.”

NATALIE Appleton’s son Ace looked every inch the grown-up rockstar as he attended a new Bowie exhibition with his famous Mum.

​The pair posed on the red carpet at the opening night of David Bowie: You’re Not Alone at The Lightroom in London.

Ace is the son of the All Saints star and her husband, The Prodigy’s Liam Howlett.

​Natalie is around 5’5″, while her famous other half, Liam, is 6’1″, and it looks like Ace certainly inherited his Dad’s lofty genes.

The 22-year-old towered over his Mum as the mum-and-son duo posed for photographers at the showbiz event.

​Liam Howlett and Natalie have been together for 25 years after they met at V Festival in 2000.  They married in 2002, and Ace was born in 2004.

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​Natalie also has an older daughter, Rachel, 33, from a previous relationship with Dreamboys stripper Carl Robinson.

Despite their fame, Natalie and Liam have kept their family life relatively private, choosing to let their son carve out his own path.

And it seems that approach has paid off, with Ace now making a name for himself on the London music scene in his own right.

​Following in the footsteps of his musical parents, Ace is bass guitarist for the Camden-based group, Pedestrian Band, with his proud Mum known to plug his music on her socials.

Ace’s band Pedestrian are still emerging on the London indie scene, but they’re already turning heads with their experimental sound.

The trio have released their debut EP and built a cult following, earning a reputation as one of Camden’s most exciting up-and-coming acts.

​

While he isn’t relying on his famous surname, Ace is well-connected in music, with cousin Gene Gallagher, son of Nicole Appleton and Liam Gallagher.

Meanwhile, Natalie and her sister Nicole shot to fame in 1996 alongside Shaznay Lewis and Melanie Blatt in the girl band All Saints.

The group proved a massive hit and brought fans songs like Pure Shores, Black Coffee, and Never Ever.

The foursome became huge stars, with Nicole and Natalie going on to date some big celebrities, before settling down with Liam.

Nicole once had a high-profile with Robbie Williams between 1997 and 1999, which included an engagement and a terminated pregnancy.

Natalie and Ace attended the launch of Lightroom’s latest exhibition of immersive Bowie content projected onto it’s 11-metre-high walls and floor.

​The hour-long experience features live recordings, interviews and unseen footage from the David Bowie Archive.

​With a huge sound system and Bowie as narrator, it’s considered the closest to experiencing the late icon live.

​David Bowie: You’re Not Alone will run at Lightroom near King’s Cross from 22nd April 2026.

Tickets are priced from £25 for adults and £15 for students and concessions.

Cameron Collins was sick of Joe Biden.

The owner of concert promoter Brew Ha Ha Productions describes himself as a libertarian-leaning conservative who built his career in San Juan Capistrano. He’d kept his personal politics out of his popular SoCal events, like the ska fest OC Super Show and the nationally touring Punk in the Park fest, a staple for bands like Bad Religion and Pennywise.

On May 30, 2024, Collins felt dismayed that Biden had pursued reelection. In a fit of anger, he donated $225 to Donald Trump’s campaign.

“It was just an impulsive thing,” Collins said in an interview. “Biden had said he was going to run again. I was like, nope. He’d said he wasn’t. It was more about that than anything. I don’t post anything political or talk about anything politically. I’ve never donated to anything like that before.”

That donation proved fateful. After a small punk label discovered and decried Collins’ donation, the scene turned on him. Influential bands pulled out of his festivals or said they wouldn’t return.

On Feb. 27, Collins canceled every Punk in the Park date for 2026.

“The current climate surrounding the events has created challenges that make it impossible for us to move forward,” the organizers wrote on Instagram.

It’s no surprise that an underground music scene would loathe a Trump-donating promoter. Amid the Iran war, raids by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, and the Epstein files, many Americans want Trump supporters gone from their lives, some viewing any form of support for him as an attack on their and others’ safety and dignity.

Yet until this donation, Collins was a respected promoter whose events sustained hundreds of acts, including progressive bands. Some artists who relied on Collins’ festivals — even if they hate his politics — said the backlash will hurt their livelihoods too.

“It was the worst money I ever spent,” Collins said. “It was not worth this.”

On a March afternoon after canceling his tours, Collins spoke to The Times on a Zoom from his home in Texas. He wore a thick gray beard and the chunky glasses of an aging rocker. His home office was plastered in concert posters from his decades of shows, which include Punk in Drublic (a long-running collaboration with his friends in the left-leaning band NOFX), Silverado Showdown in Orange County and SoCal rock radio station KLOS’ Sabroso Festival.

He expressed bewilderment over the fan revolt that turned him from a scene mogul who gave to pediatric cancer research charities to a villain with a gutted festival business.

“I feel like my reputation with every artist I ever worked with was that they would say, ‘The guy’s got integrity. He treats everyone right. He fights for this scene,’ ” Collins said. “I’m wondering what is happening right now that this has become so polarizing.”

Asked what Trump policies he supported, Collins sighed and said, “A vote for a candidate is not an endorsement of everything they stand for. I am very antiwar. There were promises that Trump made — no more foreign wars, supporting Ukraine by ending that war, lowering prices on gas and on groceries. Dinner table topics.”

Those goals are significantly at odds with the president’s track record. Did Trump deliver on Collins’ donation?

“The way that this whole fiasco has gone down — no one would have voted for that,” he said.

Punk has long struggled with a reactionary streak. British bands in the ‘70s wore swastika armbands for shock value. The Sex Pistols’ Johnny Rotten and the Ramones’ Johnny Ramone turned rightward, and Orange County’s hardcore scene has had neo-Nazi extremists. Gen X punk fans who consider themselves anti-establishment might see online leftists as imposing on their ability to have consequence-free political speech.

Yet the vitality of today’s punk scene is driven by young, racially and sexuality-diverse fans who believe they are in grave danger from Trump’s policies.

Last year, Brandon Lewis, the founder of the Columbus, Ohio-based label Punkerton Records, was poking around on the donor database Open Secrets. He was curious how his scene was donating, and he’d attended Brew Ha Ha events like the Ohio punk festival Camp Anarchy. He checked where Collins put his money and was appalled that it went to Trump.

“We refuse to support, defend, or stay silent about someone who gave money to a man actively destroying everything we care about, deporting our friends and families, erasing the existence of our trans community, stripping away civil liberties, civil rights, and workers’ rights, while dismantling the Constitution itself,” Lewis wrote from Punkerton’s Instagram.

“I’m a combat veteran, and this administration is just pushing everything I believe in about freedom out the window,” Lewis told The Times. “When I would listen to Trump’s rhetoric about ICE — I’ve got friends who are undocumented. Supporting that in a financial way, supporting someone saying my trans friends don’t exist, and to do so coming from a music scene that to me is accepting and kind and certainly not ripping families apart, I couldn’t in good conscience let that go.”

Other bands in the scene, like Dillinger Four, found more donations — around $100 or $200 each — from Collins going to the Trump-supporting political action committees WinRed and Never Surrender and the Trump National Committee. Collins’ support ran deeper than a one-off gesture.

Left-leaning fans demanded that bands drop off Collins’ festival bills.

Dropkick Murphys, a rough-and-ready enemy of Trumpism in punk, had played Collins’ past events. When word of his donations spread, the band came out swinging.

“Punk Rock and Donald Trump just don’t belong together,” they wrote in an Instagram post . “So, upon finding out that Brew Ha Ha promotions donated to the Trump campaign, we will not be playing any more Punk in the Park shows.”

Some acts, like old-guard punks the Adicts and ska group the Aquabats, canceled sets at Collins’ events. Other bands, like Dead Kennedys, said they opposed his beliefs but fulfilled their contracts.

“Dead Kennedys have always stood firmly against authoritarianism, racism, and fascism. That has not changed,” the group wroteon social media. “After these scheduled appearances, we will not be participating in future Punk In the Park events.”

Collins said he understood why bands jumped ship. “There was so much pressure building,” he said. “The bands are a business. You have to say, at what level is the pay worth the headache?”

Yet he insisted that “anyone that pulled off did not pull out because they were standing for something, but were being pummeled to the ground by everyone that said they’d better do it or else. I don’t want those bands to go through that.”

Many fans say that Collins is seeing the predictable consequences of supporting a politician the scene despises.

Others struggled with what to do in response. Monique Powell, the singer for the Orange County ska band Save Ferris, describes herself as a “queer anarchist anti-Netanyahu Jewish child of a North African immigrant,” and far from a Trump sympathizer. Yet Save Ferris played Collins’ OC Super Show event in spite of the protests and bands pulling out.

She said that, while she opposes MAGA, she “wasn’t willing to disappoint fans and put hundreds of people out of work just because someone had a view I didn’t agree with.”

She said Collins “has been an important part of creating and nurturing this scene. He gave a lot of people work. From onstage, I see all the vendors, the stage crew, all providing jobs for people of all backgrounds. He’s given a place for fans to come together, even if they don’t all believe the same stuff.”

Save Ferris was a breakout act in the ‘90s and is now a working-class band on the ska and punk festival circuit. “I see the midsized, hometown venues that the bands of my ilk play — they’re being bought out or dying,” Powell said. “I’m not about to start getting out pitchforks for someone who did something that’s nothing compared to the effects of larger companies.”

Take, for example, Beverly Hills-based concert giant Live Nation, which was in the news last week after a federal jury in New York ruled against it in an antitrust case. Live Nation’s chief executive, Michael Rapino, has donated to Democrats Kamala Harris, Sens. Jacky Rosen of Nevada, Lisa Blunt Rochester of Delaware and Adam Schiff of California, and the music biz-friendly Texas Republican John Cornyn. Live Nation’s PAC has given to Republican Sens. Marsha Blackburn of Tennessee and Ohio Rep. Jim Jordan, alongside several Democrats. Billionaire Philip Anschutz, whose namesake firm AEG is the parent company of Coachella promoter Goldenvoice, has donated millions to Republican politicians, PACs and party organizations for decades — exponentially more than Collins ever did.

It’s fair for to wonder why music fans who hold the line on supporting a Trump donor like Collins might attend those other shows. Lewis said he struggles with that contradiction too but said it hurt worse coming from a punk promoter.

“Donating to Trump is antithesis of what punk means. Hating people for their sexuality or skin color is not punk in the least bit. People clearly expected better from a punk rock festival,” he said.

“I think Live Nation should be broken in half,” Lewis added. “But it’s no knock on someone who wants to see Social Distortion at a Live Nation venue; they need escape as well. I’m just not going to pretend Live Nation is a beacon for good things.”

Those punk communities are pushing back beyond Collins’ events. The SoCal gothic-cumbia DJ collective Los Goths pulled out of the Orange County festival Los Darks after learning its organizers, Peachtree Entertainment, produced the MAGA-champion Kid Rock’s controversial Rock the Country festival. The Los Angeles crust-punk event C.Y. Fest was scrapped after its organizer, Ignacio “Nacho Corrupted” Rodriguera was accused of sexual misconduct (he called the claims “false allegations and misinformation,” but stepped back from the festival).

Collins’ company produces events outside the punk scene, focused on craft beer and other music genres. He recently revamped his upcoming Me Gusta festival into Sublime Fest after the rap group Cypress Hill pulled out. (Last year, Sublime played at the Trump National Doral golf course for the Saudi-backed LIV Golf tour.)

Collins is not sure how he’ll find his way back into the punk scene or if the fans will want him there again.

“I still go out into the audience because I just want to see, is it real? Do people hate me?” he said. “We have bands up there like the Casualties, who are flying [anti-ICE] flags. People are like, ‘You’re a fascist,’ but I’m paying a band to go on my stage to say whatever they want, and then signing a check and going, ‘Thanks for doing it.’ ”

In America‘s current political climate, left-leaning punk fans may not have patience for Trump sympathizers. Having heterodox beliefs is one thing; financially supporting the president is another. Collins is a free market guy, and the punk market has spoken.

Yet huge companies that donate to Trump and his allies are consolidating the industry. It’s harder for progressive punks who want the scene to reflect their values.

“I feel like we created a sustainable, realistic scene that can keep going for years, and bands can earn the money that they need to anchor those tours,” Collins said. His donation caused this avoidable backlash, but “if you take away festivals that are their anchors, like we have been for so many of these artists over the years, how do they tour? This is what the bands are telling me, that ‘we’re the ones getting killed here.’ ”

Tens of thousands of readers of all ages, from toddlers clutching picture books to longtime fans carrying armfuls of paperbacks, fanned out across the USC campus Saturday for the opening day of the 31st Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, packing panels and lining up to see favorite authors and celebrity guests.

It was too early to know how many people attended the first day of the event, billed as the country’s largest literary festival, though organizers said they expect between 150,000 and 155,000 attendees over the weekend. By late morning, the campus was already bustling, with strong turnout expected for appearances by author T.C. Boyle and actors Sarah Jessica Parker and David Duchovny, among others.

Founded in 1996 and spread across eight outdoor stages and 12 indoor venues, the festival has become a fixture on Los Angeles’ cultural calendar, bringing together more than 550 storytellers for panels, author interviews, book signings, performances and screenings spanning a wide range of genres, from children’s story times to cooking demonstrations.

This year’s lineup features a broad mix of writers, performers and public figures, including comedian Larry David, musician Lionel Richie, multihyphenate businesswoman (and Beyoncé’s mother) Tina Knowles, author and social critic Roxane Gay and scholar Reza Aslan.

Under sunny skies, actor and reality TV personality Lisa Rinna brought humor and a bit of bite to a 10:30 a.m. conversation on the festival’s main stage. The “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” alum released her second memoir, “You Better Believe I’m Gonna Talk About It,” in February, chronicling her time on the show and her recent turn on Season 4 of Peacock’s reality competition series “The Traitors.”

Reflecting on her approach to “Traitors,” Rinna said she wanted to strip away the conflict-driven persona she had cultivated on “Real Housewives” and present a more unfiltered version of herself. “I was like, ‘Self, listen. You’re gonna go in there and just be you. No housewife s—, none of that reactionary stuff.’ ”

In conversation with Times senior television writer Yvonne Villarreal, Rinna also spoke candidly about the loss of her mother, Lois Rinna, in 2021 and how her grief manifested in a feeling of rage while she was filming Season 12 of “Real Housewives.”

“It really took me by surprise,” she said. “And you have to give space for it because you can’t make it go away. … They always say time heals, but time makes everything just a little less intense.”

At a noon panel titled “Fire Escape: Wildfires and the Changing Geography of Southern California,” moderated by Times climate and energy reporter Blanca Begert, author and former wildland firefighter Jordan Thomas said the scale and frequency of California wildfires have shifted dramatically in recent decades.

“The vast majority of the largest wildfires in California’s recorded history have happened just in the past 20 years,” said Thomas, author of last year’s National Book Award finalist “When It All Burns: Fighting Fire in a Transformed World.” “While I was a hotshot, there were three of those fires burning simultaneously, including a million-acre fire — more than used to burn across the entire American West over the course of a decade.”

In the early afternoon, former Georgia Rep. Stacey Abrams spoke with moderator Leigh Haber about artificial intelligence and voter suppression in front of an enthusiastic, packed crowd at USC’s Bovard Auditorium.

Abrams’ latest Avery Keene novel, “Coded Justice,” came out last year and explores the role of artificial intelligence in the healthcare industry. AI has already become enmeshed in everyday life, she said, asking audience members to raise their hands if they had used TSA PreCheck or a streaming service.

“AI is a tool … but it is created by someone, it is programmed by someone, it is controlled by someone,” she said. “Regulation is not about slowing down progress. It is about asking questions and saying that in the absence of answers, we’re going to put on reasonable restraints that we can revisit.”

Abrams also revealed that her next book, the fourth in her Avery Keene thriller series, will focus on prediction markets.

“I write Avery Keene novels to tell stories about social justice, but I put it in a form that’s accessible to people who don’t think that they are social justice people,” Abrams said. “I want to meet people where they are, not where I want them to be.”

She also encouraged audience members to push back against voter suppression and defend democracy by volunteering at polling places — even in reliably blue districts — warning that she believes masked paramilitary groups will be allowed to patrol voting locations and target people of color in the upcoming midterm elections.

The festival kicked off Friday evening with the 46th Los Angeles Times Book Prizes ceremony at Bovard Auditorium, emceed by Times columnist LZ Granderson, recognizing both emerging voices and established writers.

Winners were announced in 13 categories for works published last year. Find a full list of winners here.

Oakland-born novelist Amy Tan, whose work often explores identity and the Chinese American immigrant experience, received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and the literary nonprofit We Need Diverse Books received the Innovator’s Award for its work promoting diversity in publishing.

Accepting her award, Tan, author of the 1989 bestseller “The Joy Luck Club,” said that as a birthright citizen, she had never questioned her place in the country until recent debates over citizenship and belonging led her to reconsider whether she is, in fact, a “political writer.”

“My birthright and that of millions of others is now being argued before the Supreme Court, and no matter what the outcome is, it’s been a kick in the gut to know that those in the highest echelons of government and those who support them believe that we don’t belong.”

Tan said that as an author, “I imagine the lives of the people I write about,” and that act of compassion “reflects our politics and our beliefs. And so yes, I am a political writer.”

Addressing the attendees, Times Executive Editor Terry Tang pointed to the breadth of the weekend’s programming as an opportunity for connection and discovery. “If you take in just a fraction of these events, it will expand your mind,” she said. “This weekend gives all of us a chance to celebrate a sense of unity, purpose and support.”

The festival runs through Sunday. More information, including a schedule of events, can be found on the festival’s website.

ATHENS, Georgia — Fresh from a marathon trip to Pakistan that failed to reach a deal for ending the war with Iran, Vice President JD Vance jetted to this Georgia college town for a campus tour organized by the conservative powerhouse Turning Point USA.

But instead of showcasing the youthful energy that the organization harnessed to return President Trump to the White House less than two years ago, there was a mostly empty arena, awkward questions and unusually sharp criticism.

The event affirmed Trump’s difficulty selling the war and how much he’s complicated his own political fortunes by assailing Pope Leo XIV and posting a social media meme that depicted himself as Jesus.

“I did vote for Trump. I am not a Trump supporter anymore,” said Joseph Bercher, a Catholic who said he was glad that Leo has expressed opposition to the war with Iran.

Bercher said the Jesus meme, which the president took down Monday after a rare conservative backlash, was a “red flag” indicating Trump’s true character.

“He sees himself as like a demagogue or someone to be worshipped,” Bercher said.

C.J. Santini, a recent graduate of Liberty University, an evangelical school in Virginia, said he didn’t have an opinion on whether Iran was truly close to manufacturing a nuclear weapon and thus needed to be attacked. But he laughed and shook his head when asked about Trump attacking Leo.

“It’s just stupid. Stupid,” he said, calling it a “distraction” from Trump’s agenda in Iran and at home.

Mostly empty arena contrasts with 2024 rallies

Many of the college-age attendees donned Turning Point attire, Trump hats and red-white-and-blue paraphernalia for the event. Yet they were outnumbered more than 2-to-1 by empty seats in what is not even the largest arena on this sprawling campus that sits about a 90-minute drive from downtown Atlanta.

A Marine veteran who served in Iraq, Vance acknowledged that not all young conservatives are enamored with another U.S. war in the Middle East.

“I’m not saying you have to agree with me on every issue,” Vance told the young crowd. “What I’m saying,” he added, “is don’t get disengaged.”

The vice president took questions from Turning Point executive Andrew Kolvet instead of Erika Kirk, who began leading the organization after the assassination of her husband Charlie Kirk. Kolvet said Erika Kirk canceled her plans to be on stage because of unspecified threats she had received.

Vance, whose presence ensured significant Secret Service and other law enforcement protection around the venue, said he’d been worried that the event would be canceled altogether.

Kolvet asked Vance directly about the war and Trump’s back-and-forth with Leo. Audience questions were more aggressive. Vance jousted with at least one heckler over the war in Gaza, and he was pressed by another person over the administration’s handling of the Jeffrey Epstein case files.

In the audience, even some of Vance’s sympathetic listeners offered caveats and critiques.

“The pope needs to stay out of politics,” said Jessie Williams, a Methodist. But he noted his mother is Catholic, and he said he understands why Catholics recoil at Trump calling the pope “weak” and suggesting that the first U.S.-born pontiff was chosen only as a counter to Trump.

Williams called Trump’s meme distasteful.

“I don’t like it, but it’s — what can we do?” Williams said. “He’s a grown man, he’s gonna do what he wants.”

Blake McCluggage, a Baptist, said he did not approve of the meme or Trump’s profane Easter Sunday message that threatened widespread destruction of Iran’s civilian infrastructure.

The threat, plus Trump’s follow up message that a “whole civilization” would die, prompted escalating criticism from Leo, with the pope calling the president’s comments “truly unacceptable.”

However, McCluggage said, “you can still be a Republican” despite disagreeing with Trump.

A day before coming to Georgia, Vance tried to laugh off the meme as a joke that “a lot of people weren’t understanding.” The vice president also seemed to echo Trump’s assertion that Leo should concentrate less on global affairs.

“It would be best for the Vatican to stick to matters of morality, to stick to matters of what’s going on in the Catholic church and let the president of the United States stick to dictating American public policy,” Vance said in a Fox News interview.

On stage in Athens, he shifted his arguments, saying he welcomes Leo’s comments even if he disagrees with them.

“At the very least, it invites conversation,” said Vance, who converted to Catholicism as an adult.

Still, Vance questioned Leo anew, pushing back specifically at the pope’s Palm Sunday assertion that God does not hear the prayers of those who make war. Leo was quoting scripture from the Old Testament book of Isaiah. Vance asked whether God was on the side of Allied forces in World War II as they liberated Jewish survivors of Nazi extermination camps.

“I certainly think the answer is yes,” Vance said. When Leo mixes global affairs and complex theology, Vance said, “it’s very important for the pope to be careful.”

Barrow and Megnien write for the Associated Press.