newyorker--2020-04-16--From the Streets to the Nursing Homes: How Spain’s Coronavirus-Infection Rate Became One of the Worl

From the Streets to the Nursing Homes: How Spain’s Coronavirus-Infection Rate Became One of the World’s Highest

On Sunday , March 8th , Pilar González met with dozens of retirees outside the Prado Museum , in Madrid .
They had come together to celebrate International Women ’ s Day , for the fourth consecutive year , gathering in front of the iconic bronze statue of Diego Velázquez that sits outside the building ’ s west entrance .
After everyone arrived , the group made its way to Plaza de Cibeles , where thousands of protesters joined in raucous chants of “ A Rapist in Your Path ” and waved cardboard signs that read “ The Real Epidemic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ González , who is seventy-one and a former store owner , wore a yellow vest with purple clothing , which matched the distinct color of her hair .
For weeks , news reports had chronicled the coronavirus ’ s spread across Spain , but few people stayed home .
The march was as lively as in past years , and it was one of hundreds of mass gatherings held in the country that day .
Hours earlier , nearly ten thousand followers of Vox , a far-right party , had rallied at an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , where its leaders denounced the “ totalitarian madness ” of feminism .
And , in the evening , soccer aficionados packed a large stadium to see Real Madrid play against Betis .
To many Spaniards , including González , the pandemic seemed distant .
No lockdown measures or even warnings had been issued by the government .
To the contrary , the First Lady , the Vice-President , several ministers , and prominent politicians had urged people to take to the streets that Sunday .
So why consider staying home ?
Five @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the first coronavirus case in Spain had been publicly reported .
The World Health Organization had declared the crisis “ a public health emergency of international concern , ” and twenty-one Spaniards stranded in Wuhan , China , were repatriated and placed under quarantine in a military facility .
Spanish government officials , though , played down the chances of an epidemic .
The likelihood of having some isolated cases was real , health authorities said , but nothing suggested that the virus would become widespread .
On February 23rd , Spain ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ declared that there was “ neither a virus nor any disease transmission.
” At the time , the government didn ’ t know of any coronavirus-related deaths in Spain , and the residents who had tested positive were infected outside the country .
Three days after Simón ’ s statement , the first locally transmitted case surfaced , in Seville .
And , over the next two weeks , the number of cases grew from just a handful to nearly two thousand .
Still , government authorities resisted putting in place any confinement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to know the right moment , ” Antoni Trilla , the head of the preventive-medicine-and-epidemiology unit at the Clinic Hospital of Barcelona and an adviser to Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez , told me .
“ If you were to tell forty-seven million Spaniards that they should stay at home for fifteen days because there are thirty or forty cases , even if dealing with a new disease , it ’ s very difficult to defend that position.
” On March 9th , a day after the mass gatherings that González and tens of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of coronavirus cases in Spain doubled .
Many of those who criticized Prime Minister Sánchez for his failure to mitigate the crisis saw that day as the epitome of government negligence .
It wasn ’ t long before the debate over what the government could , or should , have done split along party lines .
Voices on the right accused the government of irresponsibility and , in some cases , went as far as to blame feminists for wreaking havoc .
Voices on the left staunchly defended their marches , arguing that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the protests and that Vox had even held its own rally .
Ultimately , neither side proved immune from the virus ’ s spread .
During the week following the gatherings , the far-right party ’ s leader and its secretary-general tested positive .
So did Spain ’ s First Lady and three cabinet ministers who attended the women ’ s march .
González lamented that the crisis had become so politicized , but she stood by her decision .
“ Even if the government had issued a warning , I think half @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” she said .
Ignacio Escolar , another attendee and the editor-in-chief of the news site eldiario.es , offered a different view .
Days after the march , both he and about a quarter of his employees presented symptoms .
Given that the incubation period for the virus is between one and fourteen days , Escolar believes it ’ s unlikely that any of them caught the disease during the protests .
Yet he said that containing the disease was as much the responsibility of government authorities as it was that of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ would have stayed home if officials had warned him .
“ We were wrong to underestimate this pandemic , ” he told me .
“ But it ’ s evident that there were mistakes made by the government .
Proof of it is that , along with Italy , we are now leading the world ’ s ranking.
” With more than nineteen thousand deaths and a hundred and eighty-two thousand people infected , Spain currently has the highest death and infection rates per capita of any large nation in the world , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Testing rates vary widely between countries , and other states may be underreporting the extent of their outbreaks .
Spain , though , clearly appears to be one of the hardest-hit nations .
As the number of coronavirus cases spiked in Spain and Italy , authorities in both countries announced partial lockdowns .
Oscar Uclés , a Spanish vascular surgeon in training in northern Italy , was stationed in the city of Ravenna when the outbreak began .
Soon after , the head nurse at his hospital informed him that several of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gloves and a mask for the stent procedures that he had mostly been performing , but he wore no protective equipment when speaking to his patients .
After rumors spread that the Italian government would be cordoning off most of the country ’ s north , he took a taxi to the airport that night and flew back to Spain .
“ Up until then , Italians had been carrying on with their normal lives , ” Uclés told me .
“ The country went from doing nothing about the virus to putting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I saw there happened in Spain shortly after.
” On Monday , March 9th , Uclés returned to the public hospital in Madrid where he had been working before his rotation in Italy .
He noticed that the epidemic had already changed the dynamic inside the hospital .
Vascular surgeries were postponed , unless in case of emergency .
Nearly all physicians , regardless of their specialty , turned their efforts to the coronavirus .
The criteria for admission into the hospital had become stricter .
Under normal circumstances , a patient with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but now only those with dyspnea were allowed to stay .
After four days of work , Uclés developed a mild cough .
A day after that , the pain in his head and body were such that he did not return for his shift .
He had contracted the virus .
Health workers make up an estimated fifteen per cent of Spaniards who have been infected ; to date , at least twenty-three doctors , a nurse , and a nursing assistant have died from COVID-19 .
Uclés told me that several @ @ @ @ @ @ @ symptoms , including a loss of smell or taste , but they hadn ’ t been able to access a test .
“ Authorities know it will likely turn out positive , ” he said .
“ That ’ s counterproductive , because it means the medical staff will have to be sent home .
And where do you find a hundred doctors ?
” Spanish officials have insisted that all health workers were guaranteed testing , but the doctors and nurses I spoke to claimed otherwise .
Gabriela Lobel , a nurse @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were in short supply and that they were offered only to workers with clear symptoms .
“ The system will ultimately collapse , ” she told me , “ not just because there won ’ t be enough hospital beds but because there won ’ t be enough workers to look after them.
” From the onset of the pandemic , Spain ’ s limited testing capacity has been a core problem .
Health officials have struggled to identify and properly isolate infected individuals showing no symptoms but who may be unwittingly spreading @ @ @ @ @ @ @ four medical associations sent a letter to the Spanish Health Ministry urging authorities to prioritize early detection .
In response , Salvador Illa , the Health Minister , announced that thirty thousand people had been screened .
Since then , the ministry has not released precise testing figures .
Instead , Illa has sought to quell criticism by claiming that Spain is conducting between fifteen thousand and twenty thousand tests daily .
What ’ s clear is that the Spanish government—unlike those of South Korea or Germany , two countries that invested early @ @ @ @ @ @ @ enough kits to track the outbreak .
First , the government ordered more than half a million tests made in China , which proved to be faulty .
In an effort to make up for that setback and its faltering response over all , the government spent more than nine hundred million dollars , the Health Ministry recently announced , on tests , ventilators , and masks , but the equipment has been slow in coming .

On Sunday, March 8th, Pilar González met with dozens of retirees outside the Prado Museum, in Madrid. They had come together to celebrate International Women’s Day, for the fourth consecutive year, gathering in front of the iconic bronze statue of Diego Velázquez that sits outside the building’s west entrance. After everyone arrived, the group made its way to Plaza de Cibeles, where thousands of protesters joined in raucous chants of “A Rapist in Your Path” and waved cardboard signs that read “The Real Epidemic is Patriarchy.” Like many protesters, González, who is seventy-one and a former store owner, wore a yellow vest with purple clothing, which matched the distinct color of her hair. For weeks, news reports had chronicled the coronavirus’s spread across Spain, but few people stayed home. The march was as lively as in past years, and it was one of hundreds of mass gatherings held in the country that day. Hours earlier, nearly ten thousand followers of Vox, a far-right party, had rallied at an event in the city’s south, where its leaders denounced the “totalitarian madness” of feminism. And, in the evening, soccer aficionados packed a large stadium to see Real Madrid play against Betis. To many Spaniards, including González, the pandemic seemed distant. No lockdown measures or even warnings had been issued by the government. To the contrary, the First Lady, the Vice-President, several ministers, and prominent politicians had urged people to take to the streets that Sunday. So why consider staying home?
Five weeks earlier, on January 31st, the first coronavirus case in Spain had been publicly reported. The World Health Organization had declared the crisis “a public health emergency of international concern,” and twenty-one Spaniards stranded in Wuhan, China, were repatriated and placed under quarantine in a military facility. Spanish government officials, though, played down the chances of an epidemic. The likelihood of having some isolated cases was real, health authorities said, but nothing suggested that the virus would become widespread. On February 23rd, Spain’s health-emergency chief, Fernando Simón, declared that there was “neither a virus nor any disease transmission.” At the time, the government didn’t know of any coronavirus-related deaths in Spain, and the residents who had tested positive were infected outside the country. Three days after Simón’s statement, the first locally transmitted case surfaced, in Seville. And, over the next two weeks, the number of cases grew from just a handful to nearly two thousand. Still, government authorities resisted putting in place any confinement orders. “It’s difficult to know the right moment,” Antoni Trilla, the head of the preventive-medicine-and-epidemiology unit at the Clinic Hospital of Barcelona and an adviser to Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, told me. “If you were to tell forty-seven million Spaniards that they should stay at home for fifteen days because there are thirty or forty cases, even if dealing with a new disease, it’s very difficult to defend that position.”
On March 9th, a day after the mass gatherings that González and tens of thousands of others joined, the number of coronavirus cases in Spain doubled. Many of those who criticized Prime Minister Sánchez for his failure to mitigate the crisis saw that day as the epitome of government negligence. It wasn’t long before the debate over what the government could, or should, have done split along party lines. Voices on the right accused the government of irresponsibility and, in some cases, went as far as to blame feminists for wreaking havoc. Voices on the left staunchly defended their marches, arguing that many conservative politicians had also partaken in the protests and that Vox had even held its own rally. Ultimately, neither side proved immune from the virus’s spread. During the week following the gatherings, the far-right party’s leader and its secretary-general tested positive. So did Spain’s First Lady and three cabinet ministers who attended the women’s march.
González lamented that the crisis had become so politicized, but she stood by her decision. “Even if the government had issued a warning, I think half of the people would have shown up,” she said. Ignacio Escolar, another attendee and the editor-in-chief of the news site eldiario.es, offered a different view. Days after the march, both he and about a quarter of his employees presented symptoms. Given that the incubation period for the virus is between one and fourteen days, Escolar believes it’s unlikely that any of them caught the disease during the protests. Yet he said that containing the disease was as much the responsibility of government authorities as it was that of individuals—and, in retrospect, that he would have stayed home if officials had warned him. “We were wrong to underestimate this pandemic,” he told me. “But it’s evident that there were mistakes made by the government. Proof of it is that, along with Italy, we are now leading the world’s ranking.”
With more than nineteen thousand deaths and a hundred and eighty-two thousand people infected, Spain currently has the highest death and infection rates per capita of any large nation in the world, according to figures compiled by the Times. Testing rates vary widely between countries, and other states may be underreporting the extent of their outbreaks. Spain, though, clearly appears to be one of the hardest-hit nations. As the number of coronavirus cases spiked in Spain and Italy, authorities in both countries announced partial lockdowns. Oscar Uclés, a Spanish vascular surgeon in training in northern Italy, was stationed in the city of Ravenna when the outbreak began. Soon after, the head nurse at his hospital informed him that several of his patients were infected. Uclés used gloves and a mask for the stent procedures that he had mostly been performing, but he wore no protective equipment when speaking to his patients. After rumors spread that the Italian government would be cordoning off most of the country’s north, he took a taxi to the airport that night and flew back to Spain. “Up until then, Italians had been carrying on with their normal lives,” Uclés told me. “The country went from doing nothing about the virus to putting extremely severe measures in place. What I saw there happened in Spain shortly after.”
On Monday, March 9th, Uclés returned to the public hospital in Madrid where he had been working before his rotation in Italy. He noticed that the epidemic had already changed the dynamic inside the hospital. Vascular surgeries were postponed, unless in case of emergency. Nearly all physicians, regardless of their specialty, turned their efforts to the coronavirus. The criteria for admission into the hospital had become stricter. Under normal circumstances, a patient with pneumonia would not be sent home, but now only those with dyspnea were allowed to stay. After four days of work, Uclés developed a mild cough. A day after that, the pain in his head and body were such that he did not return for his shift. He had contracted the virus. Health workers make up an estimated fifteen per cent of Spaniards who have been infected; to date, at least twenty-three doctors, a nurse, and a nursing assistant have died from COVID-19. Uclés told me that several of his colleagues had also shown mild symptoms, including a loss of smell or taste, but they hadn’t been able to access a test. “Authorities know it will likely turn out positive,” he said. “That’s counterproductive, because it means the medical staff will have to be sent home. And where do you find a hundred doctors?”
Spanish officials have insisted that all health workers were guaranteed testing, but the doctors and nurses I spoke to claimed otherwise. Gabriela Lobel, a nurse in Madrid, said that test kits were in short supply and that they were offered only to workers with clear symptoms. “The system will ultimately collapse,” she told me, “not just because there won’t be enough hospital beds but because there won’t be enough workers to look after them.” From the onset of the pandemic, Spain’s limited testing capacity has been a core problem. Health officials have struggled to identify and properly isolate infected individuals showing no symptoms but who may be unwittingly spreading the virus. On March 9th, four medical associations sent a letter to the Spanish Health Ministry urging authorities to prioritize early detection. In response, Salvador Illa, the Health Minister, announced that thirty thousand people had been screened. Since then, the ministry has not released precise testing figures. Instead, Illa has sought to quell criticism by claiming that Spain is conducting between fifteen thousand and twenty thousand tests daily. What’s clear is that the Spanish government—unlike those of South Korea or Germany, two countries that invested early and heavily in testing—has scrambled to secure enough kits to track the outbreak. First, the government ordered more than half a million tests made in China, which proved to be faulty. In an effort to make up for that setback and its faltering response over all, the government spent more than nine hundred million dollars, the Health Ministry recently announced, on tests, ventilators, and masks, but the equipment has been slow in coming.
Years of budget cuts also curtailed the resources available to Spanish health workers. In the past decade, Spain’s investment in health care has dropped to 5.9 per cent of the gross domestic product—nearly two points lower than the average spending of other E.U. members. As a result, there are only forty-four hundred intensive-care beds in the country, a number that pales in comparison with Germany’s twenty-eight thousand I.C.U. beds. During the coronavirus pandemic, Spanish doctors have had to make the difficult choice of determining who will receive their hospital’s limited equipment and who will not. Husamidden Kharat, an anesthesiologist who works at the Rey Juan Carlos Hospital, in Madrid, told me that patients over the age of seventy-five were no longer being admitted into I.C.U.s. “They are left to die,” he said. “It’s very difficult, but it is the reality.” Kharat said that the number of available beds at his hospital had nearly doubled and a makeshift intensive-care unit had been built, but ventilators remained in short supply, as did protective gear for workers. Kharat said that he had got used to wearing the same mask for at least two weeks and reusing his robe again and again. “We’ve been taken out of our comfort zone,” he told me. The speed at which the epidemic unfolded and the slowness of Spain’s response continued to baffle him. “We’ve been trailing behind since the disease reached us,” he said. “And, in medicine, when you trail behind, you lose.”


newyorker--2020-04-16--What Have Epidemiologists Learned About the Coronavirus?

Justin Lessler , a professor of epidemiology at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health , models disease transmission , and has been studying the novel coronavirus .
A month ago , as the first confirmed COVID-19 deaths were occuring in the United States , I spoke with Lessler about some of the early findings about the disease .
On Tuesday , I called Lessler again , to ask him how our understanding of COVID-19 has evolved in the past month , and how epidemiologists have changed their views of the pandemic ’ s likely effects .
In our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for length and clarity , we discussed what we know about whether people who have been infected are now immune , the hope that warm summer weather will halt the disease ’ s spread , and why testing remains the only way to prevent further rounds of mass quarantines .
What sticks out to you the most , in terms of all the things we have learned in the past month ?
One is something we have learned , which is that it appears that the social-distancing measures that we have been taking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ working in a lot of places .
It ’ s a little early to say for sure , but hopefully the initial signals that maybe they ’ re working are an indication that they really are .
In terms of what we haven ’ t learned , I think the amount of uncertainty that still remains on the true underlying burden is a bit disappointing .
I had been hoping that we would have more of a sense of exactly how many infections there have been out there .
I think that still @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thing .
So , by “ underlying burden , ” you mean the number of infections ?
Yeah .
We know we ’ re seeing a particular number of deaths , and that ’ s a number we can be reasonably confident about .
The number of people hospitalized is also something that we can be a bit confident about .
But the number of confirmed cases—it ’ s unclear how much that ’ s telling us , because testing has been ramping up a lot over the past month or so , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we ’ ve seen in confirmed cases are just due to more testing .
So the epidemic is progressing , and we are also testing more .
Those are all the direct measures .
But all of those measures come out of a pool of infected people that we don ’ t see , and we don ’ t know how big that pool is .
Is the reason that we don ’ t know that we haven ’ t ramped up testing enough , or is there something about the virus that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that out ?
It ’ s nothing specific to the virus , and it ’ s a little bit more than just testing .
There are two ways you can get at that unseen pool .
One is if you know how deadly the virus is , or how many people become clinical cases that you can detect , and we don ’ t really know that yet .
The uncertainty in the mortality rate per infection I still think stands probably an order of magnitude between being as high as around one @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as around one in a thousand .
The other way you can get at it is if you ’ re able to go out and do not the type of testing most people are thinking of , which is virological testing to see if you ’ re infected right now , but serological testing , which tests for antibodies to indicate if you ’ ve ever been infected .
Those studies are ongoing , but we haven ’ t started seeing many of those results yet .
So we don ’ t really @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
But it ’ s the serological studies that are likely to answer the question more definitively , and sooner rather than later .
There seems to be an assumption that , once someone has the disease and recovers , they are likely to have some sort of immunity in the future .
But at this point , how much do we really know about it ?
We don ’ t know much in terms of the specifics of how the virus progresses .
I mean , there has to be some immunity @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
You got the virus out of your system , and your immune system did that .
How your immune system did that was by having an immunological response , and that was somewhat specific to the virus .
So , for that reason , you have to have at least some immunity and protection from the virus .
How much immunity and protection it is remains an open question .
It could be what we call sterilizing or complete immunity , where you can ’ t even get infected with the virus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other extreme , it could just be very weak immunity that wanes quickly and maybe dampens symptoms a bit but doesn ’ t stop infection .
So it ’ s clear that there has to be some protection , but the amount of that protection , how long it lasts , how important it is for interrupting transmissions—those are open questions .
If there is some immunity , would it exist only if you had shown symptoms , or would you have immunity if you had the virus and were asymptomatic ?
You @ @ @ @ @ @ @ way .
I think in most cases it ’ s likely that your immunity would be a little bit stronger if you had symptoms , because a lot of the symptoms you get for diseases like this are driven not by the virus itself but by your immune response .
For instance , fever is something that ’ s driven by your body fighting the virus , not by direct action of the virus .
And so it ’ s likely that people with symptoms may have a bit stronger immunity than people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is something we don ’ t quite know .
And there ’ s a lot of potential complexity there .
Immunological interactions are complex things .
In some cases it can even make second infections worse .
We think that ’ s quite unlikely in this particular disease .
But the point is that there ’ s a lot of complexity in the way that immunological interactions work .
Where I think we can be confident enough is that , over time , even if it ’ s not strong on the first @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that they ’ ll be protected at least from severe outcomes from this virus on subsequent infections .
So if we were hoping for something , it would be that the virus spreads faster than we think , is less deadly than we think , and , once you ’ ve had it in any form , you have great immunity ?
That would be the best scenario right now , that essentially there are many more people out there who have been infected now than we think , so that we ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ immunity , or herd immunity , that will protect us from subsequent waves .
Have we learned anything in the past month that makes that scenario more or less likely than when this thing first hit ?
I think there are a few pieces of evidence that might point either way .
I think it seems unlikely that it would be really , really widespread .
I think there ’ s a moderate version of that scenario that ’ s still possible .
But just take the number of deaths in a place @ @ @ @ @ @ @ over eight million people , and just over eight thousand people have died .
[ New York City recently revised its death count to more than ten thousand people . ]
If the death rate is one out of a hundred , that implies that eight hundred thousand people have been infected , which is reasonable .
But if the mortality rate is one out of a thousand , that assumes that eight million people have been infected in New York City , which is everyone .
So if you scale those up @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you quickly get to a point where it implies that an unrealistic percentage of the city has been infected .
So that sort of puts an upper limit on that scenario .

Justin Lessler, a professor of epidemiology at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, models disease transmission, and has been studying the novel coronavirus. A month ago, as the first confirmed COVID-19 deaths were occuring in the United States, I spoke with Lessler about some of the early findings about the disease. On Tuesday, I called Lessler again, to ask him how our understanding of COVID-19 has evolved in the past month, and how epidemiologists have changed their views of the pandemic’s likely effects. In our latest conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, we discussed what we know about whether people who have been infected are now immune, the hope that warm summer weather will halt the disease’s spread, and why testing remains the only way to prevent further rounds of mass quarantines.
What sticks out to you the most, in terms of all the things we have learned in the past month?
One is something we have learned, which is that it appears that the social-distancing measures that we have been taking over the current period seem to be working in a lot of places. It’s a little early to say for sure, but hopefully the initial signals that maybe they’re working are an indication that they really are. In terms of what we haven’t learned, I think the amount of uncertainty that still remains on the true underlying burden is a bit disappointing. I had been hoping that we would have more of a sense of exactly how many infections there have been out there. I think that still remains the biggest unknown of the whole thing.
So, by “underlying burden,” you mean the number of infections?
Yeah. We know we’re seeing a particular number of deaths, and that’s a number we can be reasonably confident about. The number of people hospitalized is also something that we can be a bit confident about. But the number of confirmed cases—it’s unclear how much that’s telling us, because testing has been ramping up a lot over the past month or so, and a lot of those increases that we’ve seen in confirmed cases are just due to more testing. So the epidemic is progressing, and we are also testing more. Those are all the direct measures. But all of those measures come out of a pool of infected people that we don’t see, and we don’t know how big that pool is.
Is the reason that we don’t know that we haven’t ramped up testing enough, or is there something about the virus that has made it more difficult to figure that out?
It’s nothing specific to the virus, and it’s a little bit more than just testing. There are two ways you can get at that unseen pool. One is if you know how deadly the virus is, or how many people become clinical cases that you can detect, and we don’t really know that yet. The uncertainty in the mortality rate per infection I still think stands probably an order of magnitude between being as high as around one in a hundred, and as low as around one in a thousand. The other way you can get at it is if you’re able to go out and do not the type of testing most people are thinking of, which is virological testing to see if you’re infected right now, but serological testing, which tests for antibodies to indicate if you’ve ever been infected. Those studies are ongoing, but we haven’t started seeing many of those results yet. So we don’t really know how many people have been infected. But it’s the serological studies that are likely to answer the question more definitively, and sooner rather than later.
There seems to be an assumption that, once someone has the disease and recovers, they are likely to have some sort of immunity in the future. But at this point, how much do we really know about it?
We don’t know much in terms of the specifics of how the virus progresses. I mean, there has to be some immunity.
Why?
Because you cleared the virus somehow. You got the virus out of your system, and your immune system did that. How your immune system did that was by having an immunological response, and that was somewhat specific to the virus. So, for that reason, you have to have at least some immunity and protection from the virus. How much immunity and protection it is remains an open question. It could be what we call sterilizing or complete immunity, where you can’t even get infected with the virus, at one extreme. At the other extreme, it could just be very weak immunity that wanes quickly and maybe dampens symptoms a bit but doesn’t stop infection. So it’s clear that there has to be some protection, but the amount of that protection, how long it lasts, how important it is for interrupting transmissions—those are open questions.
If there is some immunity, would it exist only if you had shown symptoms, or would you have immunity if you had the virus and were asymptomatic?
You’d probably have some immunity either way. I think in most cases it’s likely that your immunity would be a little bit stronger if you had symptoms, because a lot of the symptoms you get for diseases like this are driven not by the virus itself but by your immune response. For instance, fever is something that’s driven by your body fighting the virus, not by direct action of the virus. And so it’s likely that people with symptoms may have a bit stronger immunity than people without, but the level of variation is something we don’t quite know. And there’s a lot of potential complexity there. Immunological interactions are complex things. In some cases it can even make second infections worse. We think that’s quite unlikely in this particular disease.
But the point is that there’s a lot of complexity in the way that immunological interactions work. Where I think we can be confident enough is that, over time, even if it’s not strong on the first infection, people will accumulate immunities such that they’ll be protected at least from severe outcomes from this virus on subsequent infections.
So if we were hoping for something, it would be that the virus spreads faster than we think, is less deadly than we think, and, once you’ve had it in any form, you have great immunity?
That would be the best scenario right now, that essentially there are many more people out there who have been infected now than we think, so that we’ve accumulated these high levels of community immunity, or herd immunity, that will protect us from subsequent waves.
Have we learned anything in the past month that makes that scenario more or less likely than when this thing first hit?
I think there are a few pieces of evidence that might point either way. I think it seems unlikely that it would be really, really widespread. I think there’s a moderate version of that scenario that’s still possible. But just take the number of deaths in a place like New York. The population is over eight million people, and just over eight thousand people have died. [New York City recently revised its death count to more than ten thousand people.] If the death rate is one out of a hundred, that implies that eight hundred thousand people have been infected, which is reasonable. But if the mortality rate is one out of a thousand, that assumes that eight million people have been infected in New York City, which is everyone. So if you scale those up by too big of a factor, you quickly get to a point where it implies that an unrealistic percentage of the city has been infected. So that sort of puts an upper limit on that scenario.
But some people think it spreads a little bit faster than we thought—those people have estimated reproductive numbers that were higher than we had been assuming from earlier estimates. So those maybe indicate that there could be more infections out there. But that’s all to say that there’s evidence, and it’s not clearly supporting either a lot of asymptomatic cases and a very low infection-fatality ratio, or not a lot of asymptomatic cases out there and a relatively high infection-fatality ratio. You could probably go out there and find somebody who would argue vehemently for either side. But I think it’s still one of the primary sources of uncertainty in the epidemic.


newyorker--2020-04-16--Turning a Tennis Stadium Into a Hospital, and Thinking About What Sports Can Do Now

It is hard to imagine two more distant places than the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center , which is operated by the United States Tennis Association and serves as the site of the U.S. Open , and Elmhurst Hospital , in Queens .
Arthur Ashe Stadium , the jewel of the National Tennis Center and the largest tennis stadium in the world , boasts ninety luxury suites where , every Labor Day , corporate executives snack on lobster rolls .
Elmhurst serves a largely working-class immigrant neighborhood—a Times piece from 2005 noted that roughly half of its visitors required @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the staff at Elmhurst are also immigrants , and the children of immigrants , that same piece noted . )
These days , though , it ’ s the physical proximity between the two places—they ’ re just two and a half miles apart , a straight shot down Roosevelt Avenue—that has more salience .
Danny Zausner , the chief operating officer of the National Tennis Center , has walked the site for twenty years and has never heard ambulances .
Now , when he steps out of his office , he can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he told me recently .
When I spoke to him last Thursday , he was thinking about the moment when one of those ambulances would turn off Grand Central Parkway and head not toward Elmhurst but toward him .
The National Tennis Center is now a hospital , too .
It happened quickly .
In late March , the city began looking for space to put up thousands more hospital beds .
The Javits Center was readied as a field hospital ; a sixty-eight-bed tent went up in Central Park .
Church naves @ @ @ @ @ @ @ local racetrack .
Zausner got a call from the Mayor ’ s office : What about Arthur Ashe Stadium ?
Zausner had to explain that the stadium , though it is the largest in the world , with twenty-four thousand seats , has a small ground-level footprint and isn ’ t climate controlled .
But Zausner had another idea : elsewhere on the grounds is a building with twelve courts , the Indoor Training Center .
A few days later , a crew from a company based in Galveston , Texas , was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ court surface .
A rapid transformation is not a new thing for the National Tennis Center .
For most of the year , it ’ s part of a public park , where anyone can get a court .
Then , for a month , it turns into a high-end entertainment complex for more than eight hundred thousand visitors from all over the world .
Fancy restaurants pop up ; so do stores and sponsor stands and television cameras .
Seven thousand seasonal workers are hired .
Hot dogs are warmed .
Champagne @ @ @ @ @ @ @ weeks , Zausner has come to the office each day , and his phone is always buzzing .
But as far as the medical side of things he ’ s hung back : this wasn ’ t his project .
He was there to answer questions as needed—he knew the right guy to call at the power company , and which way to turn when someone was lost .
He was amazed by what he saw .
At first , the city planned to put in three hundred beds ; the crew made @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seventy , including an area for twenty I.C.U .
beds .
A pharmacy went in , and a lab .
On Sunday , Zausner walked in and saw hundreds of feet of new copper piping along the walls , about ten feet off the ground .
“ I knew right away what it was , ” he said—pipes for delivering oxygen from the tanks outside .
“ That ’ s when you realize you ’ re not playing tennis in this building.
” There are countless examples of the sports world redeploying resources @ @ @ @ @ @ @ company that makes Major League Baseball ’ s official uniforms , has been making masks and gowns out of the Yankees ’ pin-striped fabric .
Bauer , the hockey-equipment company , has been producing face shields for medical workers .
Race-car engineers are working on ventilators .
Athletes have donated millions of dollars to food banks .
The Patriots sent a team plane to China , to pick up more than a million masks .
Still , the transformation of a Grand Slam site into a hospital is one of the more startling @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are not merely sidelined anymore .
Every time the United States Tennis Association sinks hundreds of millions of dollars into a project—the construction of Arthur Ashe Stadium , for instance , or the five-year , six-hundred-million-dollar renovation that was completed in 2018—it ’ s faced with the question of whether to sell naming rights to the buildings .
For the most part , it ’ s chosen not to .
( The indoor tennis center , which is called the Chase Center during the U.S. Open , is an exception . )
No @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the pressure of a sportswide snobbery : it ’ s impossible to imagine a Sainsbury Centre Court at the All England Club .
But if the U.S. Open is Wimbledon ’ s crasser cousin—more Honey Deuce than strawberries and cream—it also prides itself on being more democratic .
The United States has had more than its share of champions , past and present ; the names that the U.S.T.A .
has chosen—Arthur Ashe , Billie Jean—belong to players who also distinguished themselves off the court , by promoting equality and social justice @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reflected in those missions .
It sometimes fails .
The Times recently reported on allegations against the association for failing to stop a coach who was sexually abusing players , and , last summer , the New York City comptroller ’ s office accused the association of underpaying the rent it pays for the land , which is owned by the city .
( The U.S.T.A .
denies this . )
There are also more mundane and predictable discrepancies .
Though the U.S. Open makes a concerted effort to attract residents who live @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nothing to attend—ticket prices for the main draw are out of reach for most people .
Even a Honey Deuce will set you back eighteen dollars .
Every sport , of course , sells itself as a vital social institution , and many pocket large profits on the basis of that promise .
Sports are supposed to give people a sense of meaning—and , to judge from the communal passion , the almost helpless dedication that they engender , they seem to do so .
It can be easy to forget that fans @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the other way around .
So far , thank goodness , the hospital beds at the Tennis Center do not seem to be badly needed : social distancing has been having an effect , and , though places like Elmhurst are overwhelmed , the surge across the city has not quite reached worst-case-scenario levels .
Speaking at the National Tennis Center on Friday , as it first admitted patients , Mayor Bill de Blasio said that the center might be used in part for quarantining and isolating COVID-19-positive patients .
In Louis Armstrong @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are assembling and distributing approximately twenty-five thousand meal packages a day , which are then shipped to health-care workers , COVID-19 patients , and children who rely on school meals .
The U.S.T.A .
has also announced that executives ’ salaries are being cut by twenty per cent and nonessential projects are being delayed in order to create a fifteen-million dollar emergency assistance fund for tennis programs and facilities .

It is hard to imagine two more distant places than the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, which is operated by the United States Tennis Association and serves as the site of the U.S. Open, and Elmhurst Hospital, in Queens. Arthur Ashe Stadium, the jewel of the National Tennis Center and the largest tennis stadium in the world, boasts ninety luxury suites where, every Labor Day, corporate executives snack on lobster rolls. Elmhurst serves a largely working-class immigrant neighborhood—a Times piece from 2005 noted that roughly half of its visitors required help with English. (Much of the staff at Elmhurst are also immigrants, and the children of immigrants, that same piece noted.) These days, though, it’s the physical proximity between the two places—they’re just two and a half miles apart, a straight shot down Roosevelt Avenue—that has more salience. Danny Zausner, the chief operating officer of the National Tennis Center, has walked the site for twenty years and has never heard ambulances. Now, when he steps out of his office, he can hear sirens “every second,” he told me recently. When I spoke to him last Thursday, he was thinking about the moment when one of those ambulances would turn off Grand Central Parkway and head not toward Elmhurst but toward him. The National Tennis Center is now a hospital, too.
It happened quickly. In late March, the city began looking for space to put up thousands more hospital beds. The Javits Center was readied as a field hospital; a sixty-eight-bed tent went up in Central Park. Church naves were being considered; so was a local racetrack. Zausner got a call from the Mayor’s office: What about Arthur Ashe Stadium? Zausner had to explain that the stadium, though it is the largest in the world, with twenty-four thousand seats, has a small ground-level footprint and isn’t climate controlled. But Zausner had another idea: elsewhere on the grounds is a building with twelve courts, the Indoor Training Center. A few days later, a crew from a company based in Galveston, Texas, was laying a new temporary floor over the court surface.
A rapid transformation is not a new thing for the National Tennis Center. For most of the year, it’s part of a public park, where anyone can get a court. Then, for a month, it turns into a high-end entertainment complex for more than eight hundred thousand visitors from all over the world. Fancy restaurants pop up; so do stores and sponsor stands and television cameras. Seven thousand seasonal workers are hired. Hot dogs are warmed. Champagne is chilled.
Over the past few weeks, Zausner has come to the office each day, and his phone is always buzzing. But as far as the medical side of things he’s hung back: this wasn’t his project. He was there to answer questions as needed—he knew the right guy to call at the power company, and which way to turn when someone was lost. He was amazed by what he saw. At first, the city planned to put in three hundred beds; the crew made room for more than four hundred and seventy, including an area for twenty I.C.U. beds. A pharmacy went in, and a lab. On Sunday, Zausner walked in and saw hundreds of feet of new copper piping along the walls, about ten feet off the ground. “I knew right away what it was,” he said—pipes for delivering oxygen from the tanks outside. “That’s when you realize you’re not playing tennis in this building.”
There are countless examples of the sports world redeploying resources toward coronavirus relief. Fanatics, the company that makes Major League Baseball’s official uniforms, has been making masks and gowns out of the Yankees’ pin-striped fabric. Bauer, the hockey-equipment company, has been producing face shields for medical workers. Race-car engineers are working on ventilators. Athletes have donated millions of dollars to food banks. The Patriots sent a team plane to China, to pick up more than a million masks. Still, the transformation of a Grand Slam site into a hospital is one of the more startling, and sobering, examples. Sports are not merely sidelined anymore.
Every time the United States Tennis Association sinks hundreds of millions of dollars into a project—the construction of Arthur Ashe Stadium, for instance, or the five-year, six-hundred-million-dollar renovation that was completed in 2018—it’s faced with the question of whether to sell naming rights to the buildings. For the most part, it’s chosen not to. (The indoor tennis center, which is called the Chase Center during the U.S. Open, is an exception.) No doubt, that is due in part to the pressure of a sportswide snobbery: it’s impossible to imagine a Sainsbury Centre Court at the All England Club. But if the U.S. Open is Wimbledon’s crasser cousin—more Honey Deuce than strawberries and cream—it also prides itself on being more democratic. The United States has had more than its share of champions, past and present; the names that the U.S.T.A. has chosen—Arthur Ashe, Billie Jean—belong to players who also distinguished themselves off the court, by promoting equality and social justice. The association wants to see itself reflected in those missions.
It sometimes fails. The Times recently reported on allegations against the association for failing to stop a coach who was sexually abusing players, and, last summer, the New York City comptroller’s office accused the association of underpaying the rent it pays for the land, which is owned by the city. (The U.S.T.A. denies this.) There are also more mundane and predictable discrepancies. Though the U.S. Open makes a concerted effort to attract residents who live near the Tennis Center—the qualifying tournament costs nothing to attend—ticket prices for the main draw are out of reach for most people. Even a Honey Deuce will set you back eighteen dollars. Every sport, of course, sells itself as a vital social institution, and many pocket large profits on the basis of that promise. Sports are supposed to give people a sense of meaning—and, to judge from the communal passion, the almost helpless dedication that they engender, they seem to do so. It can be easy to forget that fans and players give sports meaning, not the other way around.
So far, thank goodness, the hospital beds at the Tennis Center do not seem to be badly needed: social distancing has been having an effect, and, though places like Elmhurst are overwhelmed, the surge across the city has not quite reached worst-case-scenario levels. Speaking at the National Tennis Center on Friday, as it first admitted patients, Mayor Bill de Blasio said that the center might be used in part for quarantining and isolating COVID-19-positive patients. In Louis Armstrong Stadium, another show court, teams are assembling and distributing approximately twenty-five thousand meal packages a day, which are then shipped to health-care workers, COVID-19 patients, and children who rely on school meals. The U.S.T.A. has also announced that executives’ salaries are being cut by twenty per cent and nonessential projects are being delayed in order to create a fifteen-million dollar emergency assistance fund for tennis programs and facilities.
Agreeing to house a field hospital “was a simple yes,” Zausner said. The more difficult questions may actually come when the black drapes separating the beds are taken down and the nets dividing the courts are put up again. Then what? The plan, Zausner says, is for the U.S. Open to go on as scheduled at the end of the summer, though, in consultation with government and medical officials, “everything under the sun” is being considered as a contingency plan. On a conference call with reporters on Thursday, the C.E.O. of the U.S.T.A., Mike Dowse, said that a decision about holding the tournament would be announced by June. “Everything is so fluid with this process,” Zausner told me. “It makes no sense for us to guess.” But it is very hard to believe that seven hundred thousand people from across the globe will come to Queens in a few months, and sit arm to arm at the outer courts. It is also hard, though not impossible, to envision the tournament as a closed-door televised event; on the conference call, Dowse called that scenario “highly unlikely.” The tournament generates more than three-hundred fifty million dollars, and much of that is from money spent by fans on the grounds. (ESPN’s television deal pays seven-hundred seventy million dollars over eleven years.) And tennis is a global game, with players coming from all over the world; sequestering them may be impossible. Wimbledon had a clause in its insurance policy that covered cancellations caused by a pandemic. (The All England Club reportedly added the clause after the SARS outbreak in 2003.) The U.S. Open does not. There are many millions of dollars at stake—and not only for the tournament. Hundreds of players, coaches, and support staff depend almost entirely on what they earn on tour. There will be pressure to play, somehow.
But lives are at stake, too. Many major sports are exploring different scenarios for coming back as soon as possible. There have been reports that Major League Baseball is looking into moving all teams to Arizona; the N.B.A. is considering Las Vegas. All the plans require readily available rapid-response testing, something that does not currently exist, and so all the proposals have a quality of fantasy. And all of them involve risk. Leagues and events may say that health and safety come first, but, until there is a vaccine, and until most people are vaccinated, the virus will spread. Sports have always involved tricky negotiations between business and the public good. That has never been more clear, and the stakes have rarely been this high.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-04-16--Mitch McConnell, the Most Dangerous Politician in America

Mitch McConnell was first elected to the Senate in 1984 , but he didn ’ t come to national prominence @ @ @ @ @ when , as the Senate Majority Leader , he emerged as one of the Administration @ @ @ @ @ effective legislative opponents .
In the past three years , McConnell has put his political @ @ @ @ @ of Donald Trump ’ s agenda , despite the lasting damage that his maneuvering is @ @ @ @ @ to American democracy .
Jane Mayer joins Dorothy Wickenden to discuss how and why McConnell @ @ @ @ @ year , became one of Trump ’ s staunchest allies .

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Photograph by Mark Peterson / Redux
Mitch McConnell was first elected to the Senate in 1984, but he didn’t come to national prominence until the Obama Presidency, when, as the Senate Majority Leader, he emerged as one of the Administration’s most unyielding and effective legislative opponents. In the past three years, McConnell has put his political skills to work in support of Donald Trump’s agenda, despite the lasting damage that his maneuvering is doing to the Senate and to American democracy. Jane Mayer joins Dorothy Wickenden to discuss how and why McConnell, who faces reëlection this year, became one of Trump’s staunchest allies.


newyorker--2020-04-16--We Won’t Know the Exact Moment When Democracy Dies

In the early days of the Trump Presidency , there was a lot of speculation about when , if , and how we would pass the point of no return , when we would know that American democracy had been destroyed .
That conversation faded after a while , drowned out by the din of Trumpian news .
The coronavirus pandemic has brought it back .
Will Trump use the virus to establish autocracy ?
Is American democracy dead ?
Just in the past few days , Trump has asserted that the Presidency gives him “ total ” authority , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on the stimulus checks that Americans will receive , and threatened to adjourn Congress in order to fill Administration vacancies without waiting for Senate confirmation .
Is this the definitive end of American democracy ?
No , but only because when a democracy dies there is rarely a definitive time of death .
Democracy is never pronounced dead at the scene .
Trump walked back his “ total authority ” claim after a day .
The design of the stimulus checks will , it seems , be the result of some negotiation : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at the top or on the signature line but , rather , in the “ memo ” line .
( Some Republicans , such as Senator Chuck Grassley , of Iowa , think that this is in line with tradition . )
The threat to adjourn Congress may not be as radical as it sounded at first : Trump certainly didn ’ t invent the “ recess appointment , ” and in fact it was the Obama Administration that fought for the right to make such appointments during a pro-forma session ( although @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of powers ) .
At the end of the day , like at the end of so many days , all of Trump ’ s threats and claims can be normalized or chalked up to so much authoritarian hot air .
This is exactly how autocracy works : it creeps in , staking one claim after another , but it does not firmly and finally announce its own arrival .
It has perhaps never been so clear to so many people at once how warped time can feel .
Coronavirus time moves at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at all .
Instead of linear time , we have time that ’ s loopy , dotted , and sometimes perpendicular to itself .
So it is with autocratic time : it lurches forward , circles itself , marches in place , and leaps .
In history books , time is linear , with clearly marked mileposts : the day the Bolsheviks took power ; the day Hitler claimed emergency powers ; the day Pol Pot marched into Phnom Penh .
It is not like that in real life , not even during @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Hungarian Prime Minister , has received a lot of attention for using the coronavirus to consolidate power .
He has declared an indefinite state of emergency , given himself the right to suspend any law , and instituted rule by decree .
But framing these moves as the death of Hungarian democracy risks eliding the past dozen years of Hungarian history , when Orbán established a monopoly on political power , changed the constitution to reframe the understanding of the state itself , rewrote history , packed the courts , waged war on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ educational institutions , and consolidated wealth in his inner circle .
Benjamin Netanyahu has used the pandemic to suspend most court cases in Israel and to engineer placing the Knesset on ice .
Rodrigo Duterte , in the Philippines , has given himself the power of censorship .
Vladimir Putin has not yet used the virus to meaningfully increase his authority , perhaps because he lacks the imagination for increasing his authority more than he already has , after twenty years of dismantling electoral institutions , suppressing the media , subjugating the courts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and laying the constitutional framework for eternal rule .
Through all these years , Putin has claimed that Russia continues to be a democracy .
The Economist ’ s Democracy Index places Russia a hundred and thirty-fourth out of a hundred and sixty-seven countries , tied with the Republic of the Congo and solidly in the middle of the undemocratic bottom bracket of the index .
Yet Russian political scientists continue to argue about how , and when , things will reach a crisis moment , and often refer to the regime @ @ @ @ @ @ @ often used in political science to describe regimes that are neither fully democratic nor fully autocratic .
From the inside of a country , things generally don ’ t look as dire as they do from the outside , because conditions are quickly normalized , because people know that things can always get worse , and because modern-day autocrats don ’ t generally announce when they are usurping power .
The pandemic has so far genuinely bolstered Trump ’ s power .
It has amplified his words by giving him the extraordinary pulpit @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has given his Administration the chance , in the shadow of coronavirus news , to push through legislative and administrative agenda items that otherwise would receive more attention and outrage .
It briefly bumped Trump ’ s approval ratings , which , even having ebbed a bit , remain at all-time high levels for his Presidency .
It has , in other words , created all the conditions for Trump to continue his autocratic attempt .
The stories of dramatic power grabs elsewhere may also have dangled the hope that at least we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
That is a false promise .
The autocratic creep continues .
• How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
• How the coronavirus behaves inside of a patient .
• Can survivors help cure the disease and rescue the economy ?
• The long crusade of Dr. Anthony Fauci , the infectious-disease expert pinned between Donald Trump and the American people .
• The success of Hong Kong and Singapore in stemming the spread holds lessons for how @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
• The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine is widely available .
• With each new virus , we have scrambled for a new treatment .
Can we prepare antivirals to combat the next global crisis ?
• How pandemics have propelled public-health innovations , prefigured revolutions , and redrawn maps .
• What to read , watch , cook , and listen to under coronavirus quarantine .

In the early days of the Trump Presidency, there was a lot of speculation about when, if, and how we would pass the point of no return, when we would know that American democracy had been destroyed. That conversation faded after a while, drowned out by the din of Trumpian news. The coronavirus pandemic has brought it back. Will Trump use the virus to establish autocracy? Is American democracy dead? Just in the past few days, Trump has asserted that the Presidency gives him “total” authority, made sure that his name will appear on the stimulus checks that Americans will receive, and threatened to adjourn Congress in order to fill Administration vacancies without waiting for Senate confirmation. Is this the definitive end of American democracy? No, but only because when a democracy dies there is rarely a definitive time of death. Democracy is never pronounced dead at the scene.
Trump walked back his “total authority” claim after a day. The design of the stimulus checks will, it seems, be the result of some negotiation: Trump’s name will not appear at the top or on the signature line but, rather, in the “memo” line. (Some Republicans, such as Senator Chuck Grassley, of Iowa, think that this is in line with tradition.) The threat to adjourn Congress may not be as radical as it sounded at first: Trump certainly didn’t invent the “recess appointment,” and in fact it was the Obama Administration that fought for the right to make such appointments during a pro-forma session (although the Supreme Court declared this an overreach of powers). At the end of the day, like at the end of so many days, all of Trump’s threats and claims can be normalized or chalked up to so much authoritarian hot air. This is exactly how autocracy works: it creeps in, staking one claim after another, but it does not firmly and finally announce its own arrival.
It has perhaps never been so clear to so many people at once how warped time can feel. Coronavirus time moves at breakneck speed and doesn’t move at all. Instead of linear time, we have time that’s loopy, dotted, and sometimes perpendicular to itself. So it is with autocratic time: it lurches forward, circles itself, marches in place, and leaps. In history books, time is linear, with clearly marked mileposts: the day the Bolsheviks took power; the day Hitler claimed emergency powers; the day Pol Pot marched into Phnom Penh. It is not like that in real life, not even during the pandemic.
Viktor Orbán, the Hungarian Prime Minister, has received a lot of attention for using the coronavirus to consolidate power. He has declared an indefinite state of emergency, given himself the right to suspend any law, and instituted rule by decree. But framing these moves as the death of Hungarian democracy risks eliding the past dozen years of Hungarian history, when Orbán established a monopoly on political power, changed the constitution to reframe the understanding of the state itself, rewrote history, packed the courts, waged war on civil society, suppressed the media and educational institutions, and consolidated wealth in his inner circle.
Benjamin Netanyahu has used the pandemic to suspend most court cases in Israel and to engineer placing the Knesset on ice. Rodrigo Duterte, in the Philippines, has given himself the power of censorship. Vladimir Putin has not yet used the virus to meaningfully increase his authority, perhaps because he lacks the imagination for increasing his authority more than he already has, after twenty years of dismantling electoral institutions, suppressing the media, subjugating the courts, amassing wealth, destroying civil society, and laying the constitutional framework for eternal rule. Through all these years, Putin has claimed that Russia continues to be a democracy. The Economist’s Democracy Index places Russia a hundred and thirty-fourth out of a hundred and sixty-seven countries, tied with the Republic of the Congo and solidly in the middle of the undemocratic bottom bracket of the index. Yet Russian political scientists continue to argue about how, and when, things will reach a crisis moment, and often refer to the regime as “hybrid,” a term often used in political science to describe regimes that are neither fully democratic nor fully autocratic. From the inside of a country, things generally don’t look as dire as they do from the outside, because conditions are quickly normalized, because people know that things can always get worse, and because modern-day autocrats don’t generally announce when they are usurping power.
The pandemic has so far genuinely bolstered Trump’s power. It has amplified his words by giving him the extraordinary pulpit of the daily coronavirus briefing. It has given his Administration the chance, in the shadow of coronavirus news, to push through legislative and administrative agenda items that otherwise would receive more attention and outrage. It briefly bumped Trump’s approval ratings, which, even having ebbed a bit, remain at all-time high levels for his Presidency. It has, in other words, created all the conditions for Trump to continue his autocratic attempt. The stories of dramatic power grabs elsewhere may also have dangled the hope that at least we will know when the worst has arrived. That is a false promise. The autocratic creep continues.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-04-16--Alan Yang Imagines His Parents’ Life in “Tigertail”

The first week of March—so , roughly a century ago—the filmmaker Alan Yang did something that now seems alien to our world : he walked into a restaurant , sat down , and ordered some food .
The restaurant was Ho Foods , in the East Village , one of two sit-down Taiwanese places in the neighborhood .
Yang is Taiwanese-American , and his new film , “ Tigertail , ” which is out on Netflix , is a fictionalized account of his parents ’ journey to America .
Yang is best known for co-creating the comedy series “ Master @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and the film is a kind of dramatic variation of the celebrated episode “ Parents , ” in which Ansari ’ s character and the one based on Yang ( played by Kelvin Yu ) contemplate the gulf between their bougie problems and the sacrifices made by their immigrant parents .
( “ We do nothing to thank them .
Shouldn ’ t we do something ?
” “ Yeah .
Like , a gift or something ?
” ) Yang started writing “ Tigertail , ” his first film , on the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , where he and Ansari shot part of Season 2 of “ Master of None.
” “ Aziz looked at me , like , Are you working on something that ’ s not the show ?
” Yang recalled .
The first draft was titled “ Family Movie.
” “ A lot of white people ’ s parents are also their friends , ” he said , laughing .
“ That ’ s not how mine would see it .
They weren ’ t always the most forthcoming about their lives .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ realized , as I got older—your parents are their own people .
They have their own stories .
They have regrets and passions that you don ’ t know about.
” Tofu came .
Then radish cake .
“ The fact that there ’ s two Taiwanese places now within walking distance of me blows my mind , ” Yang said .
( He splits his time between a place on the Lower East Side and one in L.A. ) The staff knew him , including the owner , Richard Ho , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up on the walls .
“ He ’ s from San Gabriel Valley , in Southern California , ” Yang said , of Ho .
“ I grew up in Riverside , nearby , and there weren ’ t that many Asian people , so we would go out to San Gabriel Valley to eat Chinese food .
People our age who are part of the diaspora , we ’ re moving to cities and opening restaurants and making movies.
” Ho said that , when he opened the restaurant , “ I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Taiwanese people in New York City .
I don ’ t know how you felt.
” “ I thought there were seven in the world when I was growing up !
” Yang said .
“ And four of them were my family.
” He was born in 1981 , the younger of two siblings .
“ I was a very bad Asian kid , ” he recalled .
“ As kids do , you want to fit in .
You want to be American .
I played sports and I played music @ @ @ @ @ @ @ school , and after one session I quit .
I didn ’ t like to eat rice .
My mom would give me weird food that you get embarrassed about .
And so for a long time in my life , I didn ’ t connect with that part of myself.
” In 2016 , he visited Taiwan with his father , Peter , the first time Yang had been there since his grandfather ’ s funeral , when he was seven .
They visited the factory where Peter had worked as a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ location in “ Tigertail ” ) .
Peter lost his father as an infant , and his mother sent him to live with relatives in the rice fields , in abject poverty and against government regulations .
When the Kuomintang soldiers came , he had to hide in a grain bin .
He and Yang ’ s mother , Joanne , left Taiwan in the mid-seventies and settled in the Bronx .
They divorced when Yang was fifteen .
Peter was an ob-gyn , and Joanne , after their divorce , taught math @ @ @ @ @ @ @ movie , but Peter , who is now retired and in treatment for prostate cancer , had fact-checked some Mandarin and done voice-over work for the film .
“ I wanted this haunting , sort of omniscient , proper Taiwanese accent , ” Yang said .
“ And I wanted it to feel like it was kind of out of space and time , so I had him read it.
” Yang wasn ’ t allowed to watch TV until he was thirteen or so , and then immediately fell in love with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” and “ The Simpsons.
” “ I didn ’ t know anyone who worked in entertainment , ” he said , over a bowl of beef noodle soup .
“ As an Asian kid in the Inland Empire , I didn ’ t even know what that job is.
” At Harvard , he studied biology , wrote for the Harvard Lampoon , and played in a punk band called Model Kit .
“ On the weekends , we would tour around the suburbs of Massachusetts and play V.F.W .
halls and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , like , teen-agers.
” After graduating , in 2002 , he moved to L.A. , where he lived with a friend named Mike Yank .
( “ Very confusing .
He ’ s a white guy , but it was Yang and Yank.
” ) For a time , they worked at the same educational-software company .
“ We wrote for this program called Study Dog , where a cartoon dog teaches you how to do math.
” Yang had been writing for a baseball humor blog along with Michael Schur , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Schur co-created “ Parks and Recreation , ” in 2009 .
Yang immediately hit it off with Ansari , who was in the cast—they share a motor-mouthed , nerd-bro rhythm .
The past two years have been complicated for Ansari , and “ Master of None ” is on the back burner .
“ Obviously , I just try to be supportive , ” Yang said , choosing his words carefully .
“ It ’ s definitely probably not the easiest time for him .
It ’ s really his story to tell @ @ @ @ @ @ @ told people I ’ d rather have him tell it.
” “ Tigertail ” comes at a time when Asian-centric films have hit a stride in America .
“ When I started writing this movie , there was no ‘ Parasite , ’ there was no ‘ Farewell , ’ there was no ‘ Crazy Rich Asians , ’ ” Yang said .
“ I was writing a family drama with an entirely Asian and Asian-American cast , largely in Mandarin and Taiwanese , and that ’ s an insane thing to try @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s been made , he ’ s already chafing at its parameters .
“ A lot of these stories that have done well are very familial .
They ’ re often multigenerational and often going back to the country you came from .
And that ’ s great .
Look , I just made a movie like that .
But , in the future , I would like to make movies about Asian-American characters where maybe their dad isn ’ t in it .
Maybe it ’ s about them bumming around New @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Yang flew to London to work on a TV project .
Then , when the scope of the coronavirus pandemic became clear , he turned back around and flew to L.A. , where he ’ s been sheltering in place ever since .
When I spoke to him again recently , he said that his parents had seen “ Tigertail ” for the first time—a family screening had been cancelled , so he sent them a link—and was relieved that both had loved it .
But he was worried about his father , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ went and brought him some masks and hand sanitizer on Saturday , and we spoke from a very safe distance of fifteen feet , ” he said .
“ We talked about the movie .
The ending reminded him of his own life .
I think he was happy.
” All in all , it ’ s not a bad time to release a movie on a streaming platform , especially on Netflix , with the word “ tiger ” in the title .
“ I ’ m actively encouraging the confusion , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ve been telling people it ’ s a sequel : if you like ‘ Tiger King , ’ tune in to ‘ Tigertail ’ !
”

The first week of March—so, roughly a century ago—the filmmaker Alan Yang did something that now seems alien to our world: he walked into a restaurant, sat down, and ordered some food. The restaurant was Ho Foods, in the East Village, one of two sit-down Taiwanese places in the neighborhood. Yang is Taiwanese-American, and his new film, “Tigertail,” which is out on Netflix, is a fictionalized account of his parents’ journey to America. Yang is best known for co-creating the comedy series “Master of None” with Aziz Ansari, and the film is a kind of dramatic variation of the celebrated episode “Parents,” in which Ansari’s character and the one based on Yang (played by Kelvin Yu) contemplate the gulf between their bougie problems and the sacrifices made by their immigrant parents. (“We do nothing to thank them. Shouldn’t we do something?” “Yeah. Like, a gift or something?”)
Yang started writing “Tigertail,” his first film, on the plane back to New York from Italy, where he and Ansari shot part of Season 2 of “Master of None.” “Aziz looked at me, like, Are you working on something that’s not the show?” Yang recalled. The first draft was titled “Family Movie.” “A lot of white people’s parents are also their friends,” he said, laughing. “That’s not how mine would see it. They weren’t always the most forthcoming about their lives. And you realize—or, at least, I realized, as I got older—your parents are their own people. They have their own stories. They have regrets and passions that you don’t know about.”
Tofu came. Then radish cake. “The fact that there’s two Taiwanese places now within walking distance of me blows my mind,” Yang said. (He splits his time between a place on the Lower East Side and one in L.A.) The staff knew him, including the owner, Richard Ho, a laid-back guy whose family photos were pinned up on the walls. “He’s from San Gabriel Valley, in Southern California,” Yang said, of Ho. “I grew up in Riverside, nearby, and there weren’t that many Asian people, so we would go out to San Gabriel Valley to eat Chinese food. People our age who are part of the diaspora, we’re moving to cities and opening restaurants and making movies.”
Ho said that, when he opened the restaurant, “I thought there were, like, seven Taiwanese people in New York City. I don’t know how you felt.”
“I thought there were seven in the world when I was growing up!” Yang said. “And four of them were my family.” He was born in 1981, the younger of two siblings. “I was a very bad Asian kid,” he recalled. “As kids do, you want to fit in. You want to be American. I played sports and I played music. My parents sent me to Chinese school, and after one session I quit. I didn’t like to eat rice. My mom would give me weird food that you get embarrassed about. And so for a long time in my life, I didn’t connect with that part of myself.”
In 2016, he visited Taiwan with his father, Peter, the first time Yang had been there since his grandfather’s funeral, when he was seven. They visited the factory where Peter had worked as a young man (which later became a location in “Tigertail”). Peter lost his father as an infant, and his mother sent him to live with relatives in the rice fields, in abject poverty and against government regulations. When the Kuomintang soldiers came, he had to hide in a grain bin. He and Yang’s mother, Joanne, left Taiwan in the mid-seventies and settled in the Bronx. They divorced when Yang was fifteen. Peter was an ob-gyn, and Joanne, after their divorce, taught math and Mandarin. Neither had seen the movie, but Peter, who is now retired and in treatment for prostate cancer, had fact-checked some Mandarin and done voice-over work for the film. “I wanted this haunting, sort of omniscient, proper Taiwanese accent,” Yang said. “And I wanted it to feel like it was kind of out of space and time, so I had him read it.”
Yang wasn’t allowed to watch TV until he was thirteen or so, and then immediately fell in love with comedy after nightly viewings of “Seinfeld” and “The Simpsons.” “I didn’t know anyone who worked in entertainment,” he said, over a bowl of beef noodle soup. “As an Asian kid in the Inland Empire, I didn’t even know what that job is.” At Harvard, he studied biology, wrote for the Harvard Lampoon, and played in a punk band called Model Kit. “On the weekends, we would tour around the suburbs of Massachusetts and play V.F.W. halls and Moose halls. Our fan base was, like, teen-agers.” After graduating, in 2002, he moved to L.A., where he lived with a friend named Mike Yank. (“Very confusing. He’s a white guy, but it was Yang and Yank.”) For a time, they worked at the same educational-software company. “We wrote for this program called Study Dog, where a cartoon dog teaches you how to do math.”
Yang had been writing for a baseball humor blog along with Michael Schur, who hired Yang as a writer when Schur co-created “Parks and Recreation,” in 2009. Yang immediately hit it off with Ansari, who was in the cast—they share a motor-mouthed, nerd-bro rhythm. The past two years have been complicated for Ansari, and “Master of None” is on the back burner. “Obviously, I just try to be supportive,” Yang said, choosing his words carefully. “It’s definitely probably not the easiest time for him. It’s really his story to tell, so I’ve kind of told people I’d rather have him tell it.”
“Tigertail” comes at a time when Asian-centric films have hit a stride in America. “When I started writing this movie, there was no ‘Parasite,’ there was no ‘Farewell,’ there was no ‘Crazy Rich Asians,’ ” Yang said. “I was writing a family drama with an entirely Asian and Asian-American cast, largely in Mandarin and Taiwanese, and that’s an insane thing to try to make.” Now that it’s been made, he’s already chafing at its parameters. “A lot of these stories that have done well are very familial. They’re often multigenerational and often going back to the country you came from. And that’s great. Look, I just made a movie like that. But, in the future, I would like to make movies about Asian-American characters where maybe their dad isn’t in it. Maybe it’s about them bumming around New York City.”
Later that week, Yang flew to London to work on a TV project. Then, when the scope of the coronavirus pandemic became clear, he turned back around and flew to L.A., where he’s been sheltering in place ever since. When I spoke to him again recently, he said that his parents had seen “Tigertail” for the first time—a family screening had been cancelled, so he sent them a link—and was relieved that both had loved it. But he was worried about his father, who lives in Pasadena. “I went and brought him some masks and hand sanitizer on Saturday, and we spoke from a very safe distance of fifteen feet,” he said. “We talked about the movie. The ending reminded him of his own life. I think he was happy.” All in all, it’s not a bad time to release a movie on a streaming platform, especially on Netflix, with the word “tiger” in the title. “I’m actively encouraging the confusion,” Yang said. “I’ve been telling people it’s a sequel: if you like ‘Tiger King,’ tune in to ‘Tigertail’!”


A Plague-Month Journal

Day 1 : Made a final , last-dash trip to the grocery store to stock up for the long haul .
Fully prepared for weeks of isolation—beans , rice , canned soup , frozen veggies , toilet paper ( just beat a septuagenarian in a hand-crocheted mask to the last rolls ) .
We are officially on lockdown .
This house is a space station .
No one in , no one out .
Day 2 : Found our youngest had removed all of her clothing and was frolicking in neighbor ’ s azaleas .
While I was wrangling her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ outside for seven hours today .
Day 3 : Homeschooling officially begins !
I ’ ve roughed out lesson plans for the kids—spelling , basic science , silent reading .
Even yoga !
I ’ d like to see their “ real ” teachers think outside the box like this .
I ’ m a little rusty on math , but we can work some conversion-table practice into the healthy meals we ’ ll all be cooking together .
Day 4 : Bought a guitar on Amazon !
The delivery guy shot me @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me an obviously guitar-shaped box .
He did not seem impressed by my plan to bring neighbors together through song , as they do in Italy .
Day 5 : Minor scuffle .
While encouraging our oldest to measure out the Parmesan for a kale salad , my partner and I got into a conversation about how many tablespoons are in a quarter cup .
As well as why I bought six pounds of kale .
No improvement on the math front , but kids learned some new vocabulary words !
Day 6 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ !
Carefully explained to my three-year-old the rules of standing six feet apart and of minimizing physical contact .
She responded by licking my nostril .
Really got up in there .
Day 7 : Found a dusty bottle of wine in the back of the pantry .
Might be fun for a future date night !
Now more than ever , it ’ s important to keep the romance alive .
Day 9 : Man , that wine went fast !
Spent the day bouncing between Apple News and my E-Trade account @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Day 10 : Indoor art projects !
The used toilet-paper rolls are really piling up , but my plan for crafting cardboard kaleidoscopes was interrupted by my youngest asking why they are being forced to play with garbage .
Day 11 : Date night !
Wine or no wine , it ’ s so vital to do some basic grooming and dress up for each other .
Even if it ends with the dog eating half the bag of chocolate chips for your ganache and you frantically Googling “ Emergency vet near me @ @ @ @ @ @ @ after midnight .
Fun fact : you can induce vomiting in a Yorkshire terrier by getting it to ingest a solution of warm water and hydrogen peroxide .
The hydrogen peroxide does not aid in removing carpet stains .
Day 13 : Triumphantly ventured out onto my fire escape to play “ Wonderwall ” for community .
Had made it past the opening chords when a neighbor raised his voice , as if to sing along !
He then shouted that if I kept this up he ’ d call the police .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ crack at “ Blackbird.
” Day 14 : Spent the entire day attempting to relearn long division .
Informed my oldest that this was a valuable life skill that was going to come up a lot in adulthood .
Was asked , “ Then why don ’ t you know how to do it ?
” Excused myself to the bathroom , where I remain .
Day 16 : Oldest woke me in the middle of the night to inform me that he is going to die .
After inducing a brief panic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ die if I don ’ t let him digitally download a PS4 game called Borderlands 3.
” Day 17 : Borderlands is teaching me to survive in this new world in a way that long division never could .
Day 22 : Oh , man , sorry .
What day is it ?
Day 23 : Fitness !
After a brief flirtation with couch-based self-care , I ’ m bringing back family yoga .
I subscribed to that premium Fitbit stuff so I can get full-body workouts at home !
We ’ re @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and healthier than when we started .
Also splurged on the fancy version of Duolingo .
When this is all over , I ’ m taking the whole family to Europe to let our international neighbors know that we stand together with compassion as one global community .
Day 25 : I should have bought stock in Zoom , I should have bought stock in Zoom , I should have bought stock in Zoom , I should have bought stock in Zoom , I should have bought stock in Zoom , I should @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
.
Day 26 : Know “ Blackbird ” like the back of my hand !
Hope my soulful lullaby can soothe the whole block to sleep .
Day 27 : So , a police officer stopped by and confiscated my guitar this morning .
Kind of unclear on the constitutionality of that , but seemed like a bad time to really push it .
Especially after she said , “ People are suffering enough.
” Day 28 : Giving back !
Inspired by social-media accounts of heroic medical professionals on the front @ @ @ @ @ @ @ donate homemade surgical masks as a family .
In terms of supplies , I could only find pipe cleaners , toilet paper , Scotch Tape , and a dull pair of kitchen shears .
One of the masks turned out pretty good !
But then my youngest put it on to model it , which essentially amounted to spitting in it .
Day 29 : Governor announced that we ’ re “ only a few weeks away ” from the peak .
There is a graph on the television , but I am @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 30 : I wish I ’ d spent more time at the office .

Day 1: Made a final, last-dash trip to the grocery store to stock up for the long haul. Fully prepared for weeks of isolation—beans, rice, canned soup, frozen veggies, toilet paper (just beat a septuagenarian in a hand-crocheted mask to the last rolls). We are officially on lockdown. This house is a space station. No one in, no one out.
Day 2: Found our youngest had removed all of her clothing and was frolicking in neighbor’s azaleas. While I was wrangling her, dog escaped. I have been outside for seven hours today.
Day 3: Homeschooling officially begins! I’ve roughed out lesson plans for the kids—spelling, basic science, silent reading. Even yoga! I’d like to see their “real” teachers think outside the box like this. I’m a little rusty on math, but we can work some conversion-table practice into the healthy meals we’ll all be cooking together.
Day 4: Bought a guitar on Amazon! The delivery guy shot me kind of a look when he handed me an obviously guitar-shaped box. He did not seem impressed by my plan to bring neighbors together through song, as they do in Italy.
Day 5: Minor scuffle. While encouraging our oldest to measure out the Parmesan for a kale salad, my partner and I got into a conversation about how many tablespoons are in a quarter cup. As well as why I bought six pounds of kale. No improvement on the math front, but kids learned some new vocabulary words!
Day 6: Practical lessons about social distancing today! Carefully explained to my three-year-old the rules of standing six feet apart and of minimizing physical contact. She responded by licking my nostril. Really got up in there.
Day 7: Found a dusty bottle of wine in the back of the pantry. Might be fun for a future date night! Now more than ever, it’s important to keep the romance alive.
Day 8: Oh, God, my 401(k).
Day 9: Man, that wine went fast! Spent the day bouncing between Apple News and my E-Trade account. Have nearly mastered “Wonderwall.”
Day 10: Indoor art projects! The used toilet-paper rolls are really piling up, but my plan for crafting cardboard kaleidoscopes was interrupted by my youngest asking why they are being forced to play with garbage.
Day 11: Date night! Wine or no wine, it’s so vital to do some basic grooming and dress up for each other. Even if it ends with the dog eating half the bag of chocolate chips for your ganache and you frantically Googling “Emergency vet near me still open.”
Day 12: Technically after midnight. Fun fact: you can induce vomiting in a Yorkshire terrier by getting it to ingest a solution of warm water and hydrogen peroxide. The hydrogen peroxide does not aid in removing carpet stains.
Day 13: Triumphantly ventured out onto my fire escape to play “Wonderwall” for community. Had made it past the opening chords when a neighbor raised his voice, as if to sing along! He then shouted that if I kept this up he’d call the police. Was going inside anyhow to take a crack at “Blackbird.”
Day 14: Spent the entire day attempting to relearn long division. Informed my oldest that this was a valuable life skill that was going to come up a lot in adulthood. Was asked, “Then why don’t you know how to do it?” Excused myself to the bathroom, where I remain.
Day 15: Teachers should make ten million dollars a year.
Day 16: Oldest woke me in the middle of the night to inform me that he is going to die. After inducing a brief panic, he elaborated that he “will die if I don’t let him digitally download a PS4 game called Borderlands 3.”
Day 17: Borderlands is teaching me to survive in this new world in a way that long division never could.
Day 22: Oh, man, sorry. What day is it?
Day 23: Fitness! After a brief flirtation with couch-based self-care, I’m bringing back family yoga. I subscribed to that premium Fitbit stuff so I can get full-body workouts at home! We’re going to come out of this stronger and healthier than when we started. Also splurged on the fancy version of Duolingo. When this is all over, I’m taking the whole family to Europe to let our international neighbors know that we stand together with compassion as one global community.
Day 24: Borderlands 3.
Day 25: I should have bought stock in Zoom, I should have bought stock in Zoom, I should have bought stock in Zoom, I should have bought stock in Zoom, I should have bought stock in Zoom, I should have bought stock in Zoom. . . .
Day 26: Know “Blackbird” like the back of my hand! Hope my soulful lullaby can soothe the whole block to sleep.
Day 27: So, a police officer stopped by and confiscated my guitar this morning. Kind of unclear on the constitutionality of that, but seemed like a bad time to really push it. Especially after she said, “People are suffering enough.”
Day 28: Giving back! Inspired by social-media accounts of heroic medical professionals on the front lines, I decided we’d donate homemade surgical masks as a family. In terms of supplies, I could only find pipe cleaners, toilet paper, Scotch Tape, and a dull pair of kitchen shears. One of the masks turned out pretty good! But then my youngest put it on to model it, which essentially amounted to spitting in it.
Day 29: Governor announced that we’re “only a few weeks away” from the peak. There is a graph on the television, but I am unable to understand the math.
Day 30: I wish I’d spent more time at the office.


newyorker--2020-04-17--“The Well-Tempered Clavier,” Streaming from the Catskills

This spring , the pianist Jeremy Denk was supposed to present a three-part series on Bach ’ s “ Well-Tempered @ @ @ @ @ s Greene Space , in downtown Manhattan , but , with the city locked down @ @ @ @ @ at his home in the Catskills instead .
It ’ s “ a place where @ @ @ @ @ farm as best I can , ” he said in the introduction to the April @ @ @ @ @ together preludes and fugues with his own perspicacious commentary .
The next installment , on @ @ @ @ @ Denk ’ s and WQXR ’ s Facebook pages .

This spring, the pianist Jeremy Denk was supposed to present a three-part series on Bach’s “Well-Tempered Clavier” in WQXR’s Greene Space, in downtown Manhattan, but, with the city locked down, he is recording it at his home in the Catskills instead. It’s “a place where I pretend to garden and farm as best I can,” he said in the introduction to the April 7 concert, before weaving together preludes and fugues with his own perspicacious commentary. The next installment, on April 27, streams on Denk’s and WQXR’s Facebook pages.