The weekend feels good about its Final Four picks.
To coincide with the full moon, you'll find a three-day special menu incorporating time-honored aphrodisiacs like truffles and chocolate. If you're not buying the concept, just cross the street afterward for a stiff drink. Same idea.
Another banner week of stunning accomplishment and sly intrigue requires a suitably sophisticated climax. You know, like a giant guerrilla pillow fight.
Among the two artists displaying diminutive photographs at this exhibit, you'll likely devote more time squinting at the noble works of Ashley Tibbits, who focuses exclusively upon the legs of her female subjects. Better luck next time, David Horvitz.
Tides turn, seasons change...and at least once a year, you find yourself tipping a few back amid a surreal gaggle of hipsters coating a rooftop on a Sunday afternoon. Oddly named DJ collective Droog provides the inaugural soundtrack for this weekend's rebirth.
Scottish photographer Harry Benson came to America with the Beatles (he was in their hotel room when "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" hit number one), and he stuck around to snap every president since Eisenhower. Not a bad trip.
