Has the city’s complicated, problematic, and historically corrupt liquor licensing process guaranteed that Boston will never have a normal or equitable social life? Could lifting the cap on the number of licenses fix it?
Boston’s liquor licensing quota was born out of elitism and has fostered a poisonous disparity over the past century. Can lifting the cap break the cycle?
The team has enlisted Phillip Tang of East by Northeast in Cambridge to help usher in a new era of Asian gastropub glory to a now-legendary corner of the South End’s dining scene.
“I don’t need this project,” [Deluty] says. “I want this project.”
Every Monday night during the summer months, hundreds of dancers gather with electric energy under the banner of community and Latin heritage on an outdoor dance floor in Boston’s South End for Salsa in the Park.
“The show is really aimed at breaking cycles of silence,” Evasco says. “My whole artistic practice is centered around using humor to talk about difficult things.”
Having covered gentrification from East Berkeley Street for 11 years, I’d be derelict in my duty to wage class war if I ignored the pressure that development exerts on the media.
“I wanted a theater all my life. That was my dream.”
Eschewing art world clichés, he strives to present and create work that is approachable, humorous, and, perhaps above all, honest.
If you’re a student who blew through your semester’s savings by the end of September, someone who hands over each paycheck directly to their landlord, or someone busy working to find work, sneezing next to one of greater Boston’s many arts institutions can feel like an overdraft threat to your bank account. That should’t be the case, and in many instances, it’s not.