mind

The Broad’s “Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind” is more mind than music. She opens your mind; you make the music. Look into an empty “Box of Smile” and maybe you will. “Give Peace a Chance” — of course.

She breaks, and she mends, and not just your mind. Something tells me the Broad won’t go along with Ono’s “Collecting Piece II” from 1963, which has the following instructions: “Break a contemporary museum into pieces with the means you have chosen. Collect the pieces and put it together with glue.”

That’s a smile piece, too, although Ono looks all business holding a crystalline hammer on the catalog cover photo. I still smile when I recall how her piece for an orchestra that asks the players to bang their heads against a stage wall utterly delighted an audience and musicians at a performance in New York. Only Ono remained deadpan.

There were more smiles Saturday evening when The Broad, in collaboration with REDCAT across the street, presented a program of two Ono performance pieces. It began with six members of the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra playing Boccherini’s First Sextet. This happens to be the first work ever written for pairs of violins, violas and cellos, as an expression of freedom that, in 1776, felt revolutionary.

Perhaps that is why LACO chose the Italian composer to represent a contemporary revolutionary artist in the wake of our 250th July 4. The actual piece being performed was Ono’s “Sky Piece for Jesus Christ,” in which she instructs an orchestra, whatever size (although she tended to like something larger than a sextet), to begin by playing a work, say, by Mozart.

It doesn’t much matter what is chosen, because at the premiere in a 1965 Fluxus concert at Carnegie Recital Hall, Ono and a couple of colleagues crept on stage and began wrapping the musicians in gauze. After a few minutes, they could no longer play.

Amusing, yes, but this is also an act of silencing, maybe even passive-aggressive violence. You smile (and a player or two at REDCAT couldn’t suppress a smile), but you don’t feel so hot doing so.

There is, in fact, more to this “Sky Piece” than meets the smile. Ono meant Jesus Christ to stand for John Cage. Cage was a key inspiration for Ono’s art. When the Beatles broke up and Ono and John Lennon moved to New York in the late 1960s, they first wanted to be as far from the limelight as possible, Ono having been demonized in the popular press over supposedly breaking up the Beatles (she didn’t!!!!). Cage found them a small two-bedroom apartment next door to him and his partner, Merce Cunningham, in their modest West Village building (a significant fact curiously ignored in the otherwise illuminating new documentary “One to One: John and Yoko” about the couple’s new New York life there).

Ono and Cage had a long, meaningful but not always easy relationship. Cage, who wrote music to suppress his ego, had a problem with Ono’s exhibitionism. In 1962, he dedicated a piece to Ono titled “0’00” (4’33” No. 2),” an Ono-like composition with a single sentence of instruction: “In a situation provided with maximum amplification (no feedback) perform a disciplined action.”

Cage later added other qualifications. One insistence is that the action should fulfill an obligation to others. However much Ono’s “Sky Piece” comes across as a playful Cage rejoinder, Ono did, the year before in Kyoto, create what could be called a version of “0’00”,” although an actual silent piece.

This is her famous “Cut Piece,” which the performance artist known as MPA performed at REDCAT following “Sky Piece.” It was clearly the draw that caused the program to be sold out months in advance.

There are many meanings that have been inscribed to “Cut Piece,” in which Ono invited the audience to come on stage and, with a pair scissors, cut off a small piece of her dress. Along with questioning social and sexual taboos, feminism and acts of aggression, Ono also confronts her own issues with ego from a Buddhist perspective, just as Cage had.

“Cut Piece” has a central place in Ono’s work as do film clips of her performing it in the Broad exhibition. Ono sits without a trace of emotion as she is stripped bare. Attention is directed away from her to the cutters. But the action is nullified by the fact that Ono assumes the stoic posture of the Buddhist monks seen in the news at the time setting themselves aflame in protest of the Vietnam War.

War had, indeed, inspired Ono in her shocking, exhibitionist (however ego-denying) disciplined action. It’s fulfillment of an obligation to others is, like so much in Ono, a two-edged sword forcing us — be we active cutters or passive observers — into contemplation of violence.

MPA’s performance was extraordinary. She introduced “Cut Piece” by noting that in Ono’s six performances over a half-century, the last in 2003 in response to the Gulf War, anger had turned into something more gracious. It was her way of saying to a new generation, give peace a chance.

To begin her own performance, MPA announced that she has retained Ono’s intent to perform “Cut Piece” in time of war. She said take the square of clothing and honor it, let it mean something to you.

At the few performances I’ve seen of “Cut Piece,” there has typically been audience hesitation at first. Not this time. What looked like almost half the full house immediately walked on stage and lined up. In the age of Instagram, everyone’s 15 minutes of fame has turned into an eternity. The cut piece of fabric — a custom garment designed by Victor Barragá — becomes proof of not missing out.

Most cutters approached MPA self-consciously as if walking to a casket at a funeral, although a few acted more like performers themselves wanting to be seen. Through it all, some 40 minutes, MPA didn’t move a muscle. It was as if she had abstracted herself from scissors and spectators, projecting not so much courage as strength. She inspired silence.

An evening that had begun as silencing a smiling sextet ended in a sublime effort to open the mind beyond body and music to give peace a chance.

This month, “Cool Machine,” a riff on 1980s New York in the form of a tightly plotted crime novel, arrives from Colson Whitehead. It concludes his Harlem trilogy, they say. If you’d told readers two decades ago that Whitehead would become a bestselling crime novelist, they might have thought you were kidding. He started out writing innovative novels with such intellectual and stylistic punch that the MacArthur Foundation gave him a fellowship in 2002.

His written output is fun, fearless and fantastic. Where to start? Here’s a cheat sheet.

For N.Y. lovers

With “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead begins his crime trilogy in the 1960s in a furniture store with stylish midcentury stock whose owner, Ray Carney, is trying not to be a fence. Love the evocation of Harlem as a place with a cool interconnected community. Worry about that cousin who’s always trouble. The follow-up, “Crook Manifesto,” is set in the 1970s. All of New York City is at a nadir; Ray is on the straight and narrow, but needs an influx of cash (for Jackson Five tickets for his daughter). Then comes “Cool Machine,” secrets to be revealed when it hit shelves this week . And as a bonus, his essay collection “The Colossus of New York,” which is vivid, episodic and yet still a story: “Talking about New York is talking about the world.”

To break your heart

The novel “The Underground Railroad” comes from an imagined misunderstanding, logical for anyone who grew up riding subways: that the path to freedom for enslaved people that we call The Underground Railroad was in fact underground. In Whitehead’s hands, that imagining takes us through both time and place while making visceral the horrors of enslavement. The book won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize and was adapted by Barry Jenkins into a limited series.

In a rare feat, Whitehead won the Pulitzer Prize a second time for his novel “The Nickel Boys,” another work of historical fiction dealing with the devastating effects of American racism. Based on the true story of a reform school where Black boys went missing, the novel pairs the stories of two teens, one a troublemaker and the other caught up by mistake. Barack Obama called it “a necessary read.” Cleverly structured, it seemed difficult to adapt, but director RaMell Ross made it into a brilliant film.

To blow your mind

In Whitehead’s debut novel, the not-realistic “The Intuitionist,” a Black female elevator inspector faces powerful forces aligned against her. Inflected with Thomas Pynchon-like wordplay and situations, it’s both ambitious and funny. So is “John Henry Days,” mixing narrative forms while telling the story of a Black journalist around the year 2000 going to every press junket he can, unmaking the myth of John Henry all the while. And “Apex Hides the Hurt” is a comic novel about the conflicts that arise in a small town when they hire a name consultant for a possible rebranding.

To eat your mind

Just around the time they started staggering onto TV, Colson Whitehead published a zombie novel. “Zone One” is a smart take on the shuffling hordes and pandemic survivors who try to take Manhattan back.

To beat the odds

Whitehead, an enthusiastic amateur poker player, wrote the nonfiction book “The Noble Hustle” about his entry into the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas. It was a luxurious time in media, circa 2011, when ESPN’s Grantland paid his $10,000 entry fee and said he could keep his winnings. The book, expanded from what he wrote for them, includes his training, pending divorce, joking asides and playing for high stakes.

To take to the beach

“Sag Harbor,” set in the mostly Black, affluent beach community in the Hamptons, is the closest Whitehead has come to writing a coming-of-age story. Taking place during the summer of 1985, Benji and his teenage friends banter about culture and get their first taste of freedom.

Spanish star has scored just one goal in the World Cup, where he’s been sharing celebrations with his little brother.

Despite not scoring a goal in Spain’s quarterfinal win over Belgium, Lamine Yamal was named the player of the match for his contributions and capped off the win by sharing a touching moment with his little brother during the post-match celebrations in Los Angeles.

Yamal, who has not scored since Spain’s group-stage win over Saudi Arabia on June 21, said after the match on Friday that nobody will care about his lack of goals if Spain win the World Cup.

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At a tournament where stars like Lionel Messi, Kylian Mbappe, Erling Haaland and Harry Kane have been prolific, 18-year-old Yamal has just one goal to date, in a routine 4-0 group drubbing of Saudi Arabia. He failed to find the net once again as Spain booked their place in the World Cup semifinals for the second time.

“Obviously I want to score, but I don’t go onto the pitch thinking about that. I do it thinking about helping the team,” said Yamal.

“If we win the World Cup, no one will remember whether I scored goals … The important thing is winning,” said the Barcelona star, after the victory in Los Angeles set up a semifinal clash with France.

“I know I can contribute even if I don’t score. I know my movements draw in many opponents, so I do everything I can to help the team,” he said.

Despite the lack of goals, Yamal has performed consistently for La Roja and has also broken records along the way.

On Friday, he made his sixth FIFA World Cup appearance, the outright most by a player aged 18 or younger in the competition.

Breakout star

Two years ago, then aged 16, Yamal was the breakout star of the Spanish team that won the European Championships in Germany.

He only scored once during that victorious campaign – a stunning strike in a 2-1 semifinal win against France.

“There’s an idea that I should be scoring more, like at the Euros, but we won the Euros with me scoring just one goal. And I have one goal here too, so I’m relaxed about it,” he said, with a smile.

But Spain will be hoping Yamal, who turns 19 the day before the semifinal, can bag further goals if his side is to see off the free-scoring tournament favourites France.

“There are two possibilities – either they reach three consecutive World Cup finals, or we beat them three times in a row. We’ll see what happens,” said Yamal.

“We aren’t afraid at all.”

Yamal shares endearing moment with brother Keyne

Amid Spain’s post-match celebrations, Yamal and his half-brother Keyne were caught in a sweet moment when the younger sibling was shown on the big screen.

The three-year-old was screaming and stuck his tongue out when the camera panned on him. Keyne then blew a kiss at his brother, making the teen Spanish star laugh and wave at him.

Keyne, who often accompanies Yamal to award shows and other public events, has been a fan favourite for the crowds at the World Cup.

He has been picked up by the cameras on multiple occasions, drawing a chuckle from his older brother and cheers from the crowd around him.

I was warned in the waiting room of Pasadena’s WeFly: “This is not an arcade,” said flight trainer Corry Joyce. No, what WeFly offers is a professional-grade simulator, one that is traditionally used to train pilots. I am not a pilot, or a pilot-to-be, but I wanted a sense of how planes work, and maybe a chance to fly over my hometown. Only once I strapped into my seat, I found myself to be incredibly nervous. There was no danger here. Joyce, thankfully, would intervene at any mistake, and would helpfully remind me that, unlike real planes, “This one has a pause button.”

And yet to set foot in a WeFly cockpit is to be alternately in awe and overwhelmed. I was in a near 1:1 replica of the insides of a Boeing 737 Max. Buttons, knobs, switches and flashing lights surrounded me. And to fly a plane, I would have to let go of everything I knew about driving a car. Turning in the air, for instance, is much different than turning on a runway. And do I watch the screen, or look out the windshield? Often the former, even though I enjoyed buzzing Long Beach’s Queen Mary, flying under the Golden Gate Bridge and circling Chicago’s Wrigley Field. When it came time to land however, my palms got a little sweaty. Navigating height, winds and the steadiness of my plane was a challenge, one akin to handing a grade-schooler a calculus book, summarized Joyce. Let’s just say I needed his co-piloting skills. And I’m not great at math.

Typically, WeFly’s clientele, says Joyce, are a mix of aviation aficionados or non-commercial pilots. The space also gets a fair share of those with a fear of flight, arriving at WeFly with the hopes to conquer it. “They want a sense of control,” Joyce tells me. But WeFly is also ideal for anyone who is amazed by air flight, or those who may someday dream of being a pilot. Though it uses “Microsoft Flight Simulator,” it is no game. Sessions for 30 minutes start at $129, and WeFly’s trainers will tailor it toward one’s experience. I made sure, for instance, that crashing was turned off. But I forgot, however, to turn with the brakes when it came time to land. Yet the plane was intact, and, as Joyce reminded me, “At least you’re on airport property.”

Serena Williams has added another stop to her comeback tour: the Berlin Tennis Open.

Just a day after announcing her return to professional tennis, the 23-time Grand Slam singles champion has been added to the 16-team doubles field at Germany’s WTA 500 event.

“Every tournament I add to my schedule right now feels special, and Berlin is no exception,” Williams said in a statement shared by the event on Tuesday. “I’m excited to compete in front of the German fans and continue building momentum throughout the grass-court season.”

Williams is set to play in the doubles tournament at the HSBC Championships at London’s Queen’s Club, which kicks off June 8. On Thursday, 19-year-old Canadian rising star Victoria Mboko confirmed on Instagram that she’ll be Williams’ partner at the event. The Berlin Tennis Open will begin June 13 and Williams’ partner has yet to be named.

The 44-year old tennis great is returning to the sport after almost four years away from competition. She firmly denied rumors of her return on social media just last year.

Williams appeared to poke fun at her own turnaround with a short ad video posted to X on Thursday captioned “I changed my mind.”

Despite prior rumors, Williams’ sister Venus seemed just as surprised as everyone else that Serena was returning to the competitive circuit.

“I think she hits every now and then,” Venus Williams, who also still competes professionally, said during a recent interview at Roland-Garros. “I never see her on the court that often, so I don’t know when she’s been practicing, honestly.”

Despite not having seen her practice first-hand, Venus Williams is not worried about how Serena will play at the upcoming competitions.

“She’s, I think, a little bit of a natural,” she said with a laugh. “She has a pretty good record. She knows what she’s doing. She’s very tenacious. I’m not worried about how she’s going to play, even though I really haven’t seen her play. It’s so crazy.”

Born in Rosario, Argentina, Bielsa hails from a family of educated minds, with his brother having worked in politics and his sister a renowned architect.

Both of those professions require analytical thinking – a gift Bielsa also possessed from childhood. However, he was drawn to football, not necessarily playing it but absorbing the tactics.

Every day he would send his mother to the local newsagent to buy football magazines and newspapers, spending hours reading up as much as he could about how teams played and how different managers worked.

Bielsa was still a capable but limited footballer. A defender but lacking in pace, he came through the youth system at his boyhood club Newell’s Old Boys before frustrating spells in the lower leagues of Argentinian football meant he decided to call time on his playing career at the age of 25 to focus on coaching.

His post-playing career started with the Buenos Aires university football team and, after two years there, he secured a position back at Newell’s as a coach of the reserve team.

Bielsa’s frustration with his limitations as a player played a significant part in his coaching philosophy, as he focused on ensuring that any player he coached was able to get the maximum out of their ability.

His training sessions were intense, with lots of focus on repetition – if a player did not have the talent to make something happen naturally then he would be sure to drill the processes into their minds.

Bielsa was appointed Newell’s manager in 1990 and his methods brought instant success as they won the Argentinian championship.

A spell in Mexico followed before Bielsa returned to Argentina in 1997 to manage Velez Sarsfield. There he would be labelled ‘loco’ (crazy) as he insisted on fielding two teenage centre-backs. He would have the last laugh, however, as he immediately helped them to win the league title.

Bielsa, who has said his nickname of ‘El Loco’ actually predates his time at Velez Sarsfield, very briefly became manager of Spanish side Espanyol but left them when he was offered his first international post in 1998 – as Argentina boss.

“Survivor 50” castaway Joe Hunter has made it to the final tribal council of the grueling competition show twice, but walked away with slim to none when it came to jury votes.

On Wednesday night, four-time “Survivor” player Aubry Bracco was crowned sole survivor and won the not $1-million but $2-million prize (thanks to a twist that involved a coin toss and MrBeast), and Jonathan Young came in second. Hunter, a firefighter and fan favorite, lost on an 8-3-0 vote.

According to Hunter, jury members had made up their minds before the remaining three castaways even had a shot to sweeten their chances at the final tribal council.

“I sit down in that chair for final Tribal, right? I’m thinking alright, here we go,” Hunter told “Entertainment Weekly.” “Right away, the second before any word was said, I went, ‘Oh, that one hates me, this one hates me, hate me, hate me, hate me.’ And I thought, ‘There’s zero chance.’”

Hunter was somewhat optimistic leading up to the tribal council and said that he thought some of the jury members had come with an open mind. “I’ll give credit to Emily, Rick Devens, Christian, Dee,” he said.

“I just felt it was very transparent based on the questions and responses that, before this thing started, I think it was a wrap.”

During the series finale, “Survivor” legend Cirie Fields put Hunter on blast, saying that castaways felt like they had to babysit him and jokingly calling it the “Joetation” when it was a player’s turn to sway Hunter to vote alongside them.

Hunter chalked up the babysitting remark to his own naivete when it came to being vulnerable with other players he thought were his friends on the island. “I just put that vulnerability in the wrong hands,” he told the outlet. “That’s really what it is. And that’s part of the game.”

Hunter also spoke with “Entertainment Tonight” and admitted that yes, he’d blocked a select few “Survivor” players on social media. “So, 751 players,” Hunter said, “yeah, there’s two.

“I’ll tell you this, each one of them is not random,” he said. “Actually, there’s three. It is not random. … All of which I would love to talk to and solve it, and have tried.”

Last week, former “Survivor” players Kelley Wentworth, who’s been a castaway three times, Savannah Louie, who won Season 49 and was on the same tribe as Hunter in Season 50, and Tiffany Ervin, who competed on Seasons 46 and 50, all said they’d been blocked by Hunter.

It’s not merely trendy psychologizing to salute the qualities of a sturdy tree: a humbling reminder of time’s immensity, but also a living embodiment of shelter, change and growth. Leave it, then, to a massive gingko on the grounds of a medieval German town’s college to cosmically center the three-pronged, multi-generational character study “Silent Friend” from Hungarian filmmaker Ildikó Enyedi.

Enyedi, from her mesmeric, calling-card period lark “My Twentieth Century” to the eccentric love story “On Body and Soul,” has always been preoccupied with that realm in which the everyday meets the all-seeing and possibility is awakened. So it shouldn’t surprise anyone that she’d give a starring role to a 200-year-old tree, which just may inspire the needed answers. And why not? Our living, “breathing,” sky-reaching neighbors have considerable communication skills with each other.

Our entryway is a modern day neuroscientist played by Tony Leung Chiu-wai (and called Tony), who arrives at the University of Marburg as a visiting professor ready to further his groundbreaking research into the mysteries of infant brain development. The gig becomes a lonely endeavor, however, when the pandemic hits and he’s confined to a depopulated campus, sent unwillingly into a kind of monkhood.

It’s as if the nearby natural world, photographed by Gergely Pálos and edited by Károly Szalai, was just waiting for such a solitary moment to draw Tony’s undivided attention into the prospect of green intelligence.

In tandem, Enyedi transports us to 1908 to meet aspiring botanist Grete (Luna Wedler), the university’s first female student, subjected to cruelly patronizing treatment by smug male elders, yet driven to see plants anew when introduced to the light-capturing rigor of photography. The movie’s third woven-in protagonist is a wide-eyed, resourceful farm boy, Hannes (Enzo Brumm), in 1972. While his fellow students spark to the winds of political change and sexual freedom, he becomes fixated on what a lone geranium, imaginatively monitored on its windowsill, might have to convey if given the chance.

The fluid, idiosyncratic charm of “Silent Friend” — which never feels like two and a half hours — is in Enyedi’s heartfelt belief that curiosity is simply a garden that grows progress. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that this veteran dreamweaver’s key cast are entrancing, inviting specimens themselves, led by an inner glow of compassion in Leung that feels like its own natural energy source. When his character contacts Léa Seydoux’s French plant expert, it becomes almost too much rapturously intelligent star wattage for one quietly poetic movie, even if these god-tier actors are just zooming and talking shop.

Hardly anything is overdone here and, in one essential way, Enyedi is also making the case for movies themselves as phenomena to protect and treasure: ecosystems of light, texture, wonder and nourishment. Visually, the film toggles between intimate 35mm black-and-white, grainy 16mm color and multi-purpose digital cameras that visually represent distinct eras. Needless to say, that gingko tree is sublime and majestic in all of them.

Vardy was released by his boyhood club Sheffield Wednesday for being too small, but the documentary unearths footage of his blistering goalscoring form in his Stocksbridge days while also working in a factory making medical splints.

However, in the first of a series of problems in 2007, Vardy admits in the documentary he had “no stability” in his life. He had been convicted of assault when out drinking and had to wear an ankle tag for six months.

He also had a 6pm curfew which meant he had to leave matches early.

Moves to Halifax Town – where Vardy met his long‑time agent John Morris – and later Fleetwood Town followed, before his £1m move to then‑Championship club Leicester City.

Woven throughout are “The Inbetweeners” – a nickname given to Vardy’s small, all‑male social group from Sheffield – who act as his main support, alongside his wife.

“If one of us is having a problem, then get it in the group. Might get abused for a bit but at least it’s us lot keeping an eye on each other,” Vardy says.

They were needed, as former Foxes midfielder Andy King says Vardy experienced an initial “culture shock” at Leicester, where the striker admits he initially felt not good enough.

Physiotherapist Dave Rennie also corroborates accounts of Vardy’s struggles with alcohol, worsened by the pressure of the move, including “manufacturing his own Skittles vodka at home”.

Vardy would arrive at training hungover and, on one occasion, uncontactable to his then-pregnant Rebekah, or Becky as he affectionately calls her.

There was a feeling he was going to throw away his career, but the work of a “good psychologist”, the patience of manager Nigel Pearson and his own efforts to grow up after the birth of his daughter Ella kept him going.

Fame still brought further problems. A 2015 Sun on Sunday story showed him on video using a racial slur against a Japanese man in a casino.

He later described it as “a massive, massive learning curve”, explaining he was never taught which terms he could and could not use.

The film also highlights “one of the harder things” Vardy experienced when he rushed home from a team‑bonding trip to Helsinki after being told a tabloid was publishing a story about his secret biological father, who he had no prior knowledge of.

Still, Vardy became the poster boy and top scorer for Leicester’s Premier League title‑winning campaign in 2015‑16, went on to lift the FA Cup and fulfilled his agent’s prediction, made when he signed for Halifax, that he would one day play for England.

Asked whether he could have achieved more internationally after retiring from England in 2018, Vardy replied: “Possibly. We’ll never know.

“I’ll be honest, going away with England is unbelievable – you want to play for your country – but the mental side of it was tough. That changed when Gareth [Southgate] came in, but before that you were stuck in your room all day.

“You trained and then you were just back in your hotel room, pulling your hair out. There’s only so much time you can spend on a PlayStation or speaking to the kids on video calls. You’ve already not seen them and now you’re getting pulled away for another two weeks. It’s tough.

“At the time, after the World Cup, I just wanted to protect [my legs] as much as possible, prolong my club career, and as I’m still going now, it was obviously the right decision.”