The New Yorker has achieved, thanks to the slices of life of its inhabitants, a “Split portrait” of a city which, even drowsy, never quite sleeps.
In recent weeks, New York has become the epicenter of the epidemic in the United States. Confined, the Big Apple idles. But it did not die out for all that.
Given the stabilization of the number of new cases and deaths, the governor of the State of New York, Andrew Cuomo, estimated that the city would reach an “epidemic plateau” on April 15.
So during these twenty-four hours, The New Yorker to my the city on pause, to describe what is still happening there. How life is organized, somehow. From the street, their balcony, a hospital corridor or a subway train, New Yorkers told their day to the American magazine. Taken together, these stories create a “Split portrait” city, which illustrator Chris Ware reproduced on this cover as a set of stills, which he titled Still life.
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Created in 1925, The New Yorker is a concentrate of New York style and humor, especially in its subtle and hilarious cartoons. His long-term reports, his political analyzes, his critiques and his fictions make him the
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