Mistral, reviewed by Aoife Hughes

Boston’s Best Bistro 

by Aoife Hughes

An incredible hideaway located in South End, Mistral is a restaurant not to be looked past. Highlighted in Boston’s Best numerous times, the culinary genius that comes from Mistral Bistro is incredible. It is noted as a “Hole for the well-heeled” and “Guaranteed Great Meal” as well as “Upscale Bar” in Boston Best.

Jamie Mamanno opened the restaurant in 1997, and since then it has flourished. On their website, Mistral is described as “Gracious. Sophisticated. Seductive. Distinctive.” Most recently,

Crowd pleasers on Mistral’s current menu include their Whole Roasted Duck and Wild Mushroom Risotto, Red Wine Braised Short ribs with Potato and Smoked Tomato, and

Tomato, Mozzarella and Oregano Pizza.

The desert menu includes rich profiteroles and refreshing sorbet along with crème Brule and a creative chocolate pizza.

The waiting staff takes care of your every need and are not overpowering to an extent that you cannot enjoy your meal. The food arrived promptly after ordering and no one had any issues with their order.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was perfect; not too noisy and not too dark or bright. The restaurant quickly filled up come 6:30 in the evening, regardless of the fact it was a Thursday evening. 

Boston should be proud of Mistral. The bistro is the epitome of a restaurant and the food is nothing short of incredible. Although pricey, if one is looking for a place to enjoy a good meal and a great atmosphere, look no further than Mistral. 

Raisin in the Sun/Clybourne Park by Aoife Hughes

The House of the American Dream 
by Aoife Hughes

Any show that can put your heart in your mouth, make you cry from laughing, and question the most basic of principles you were sure you believed should be deemed a good show. Clybourne Park, is indeed, a very, very good show. The 2012 Tony Award wining play by Bruce Norris is a work of genius. However, these brilliant ideas that shaped the show were not entirely original. Norris took inspiration from Lorraine Hansberry’s 1959 A Raisin in the Sun. Clybourne Park, the area in which the Younger family of A Raisin in the Sun move to, goes through decades of gentrification. The stories of the two shows interlace with eachother, both between the two acts of Clybourne Park in their different eras, in the same house, and the two entirely different shows, with concepts and social questions asked in both shows.

A Raisin in the Sun was difficult to relate to, as a young, white girl. It begged questions that were unfamiliar and hard to fathom and see from a viewpoint from some other than my own. However, a great show does in fact leave the audience thinking, and Raisin in the Sun can take credit for doing exactly that.

Clybourne Park, set in both 1959 and 2009, highlights how much and how little can change in half a century. On Clybourne Street in 1959, the racism was uncomfortably evident. Attempts were made for subtlety, however not to any extent that prevented it from being extremely apparent and offensive towards the African Americans. On Clybourne Street in 2009, it wasn’t as much straight racism as a general fear of those different than oneself and the fear of incredibly change. However in both settings, at first, it seems like there is little to no conflict. Nevertheless, as the story progresses and the intensity of the situation increases, characters crumble and true feelings and struggles are highlighted within many of the characters.

The production in both shows was notable. The set design was useful and added to the scene, and the execution of the acting on behalf of all of the actors was nothing short of excellent.

Without Clybourne Park, A Raisin in the Sun could’ve left me with quite an average viewing experience. However, because of consecutive viewing of both shows over two nights, the experience was perfect. They were sad, they were funny, they were relatable, they were thought provoking, and they were something I would go and see a million times again.

The Secret to Silence by Aoife Hughes

The Secret to Silence by Aoife Hughes

still from City Lights

           Unlike any romantic comedy I have ever seen before, City Lights, Charlie Chaplin’s 1931 blockbuster movie, is a master class in silent film. From scene one it was more of a challenge to watch, purely because of the polar difference between films produced and released in this decade and those from the mid 20^th century. The question regarding how emotion would be conveyed without words was asked early on in discussion of the film. However emotion and thoughts of the characters were interlaced seamlessly through the story to make sure of a good watching experience for the audience.

             Virginia Cherrill, who played the role of the blind flower girl, shows incredible skill and ability in portraying her thoughts without any words understood by the audience. An interesting dynamic to the role of the blind flower girl is that alongside being blind, the  film is silent, meaning that neither the sense of sight or hearing is used by Cherrill’s character in the film. However, close ups on her face, along with body language and occasional text cards to display words and thoughts that were impossible to do so without them, made the blind flower girl’s role interesting, and even at points relatable. Cherrill’s acting should be credited greatly for her ability in this film to depict such a complex character.

            City Lights will forever be recognized as one of the greatest movies ever made because of the skill required to execute such a complex plot with so little communication through words. 

A Traveler's Collection by Aoife Hughes

A Traveler's Collection by Aoife Hughes

Cloister garden at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

         An idyllic garden encompassed by great rooms complete with ornate decorations and an extensive collection of artwork is one of the last things one would expect to find amongst the hustle and bustle of Fenway. Like a 15^th century Venetian Palace, the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum, or Fenway Court, as it was known during the founder’s life, is an incredible home to more than 2,500 pieces of artwork collected by Isabella Stewart Gardener during her lifetime in the early 20^th century. While making your way through the three floors and plethora of rooms in the museum, it is easy to find yourself questioning the choices and placement of every artwork, seeing as though nothing has been moved since Gardner placed them, respecting her wishes in her will. Some are more obvious choices; the Raphael room on the second floor is filled with renaissance artwork of mothers and children, possibly an expression of her struggle following the death of her two-year-old son when she was in her early twenties. The Gothic Room, on the third floor, is home to an oil painting portrait of Gardner herself, painted by John S. Sargent in the late 1880s.

           Walking around the palace it is difficult to remember that this is simply one persons collection. Owning a post-revolutionary French flag given to Napoleon’s personal guard which hangs in the short gallery is quite a personal accomplishment, even for Gardener, especially since it survived an attempted theft during the infamous 1990 robbery. The museum is an incredible place to spend time, and it truly changed my debatably closed minded opinion on museums.