Whenever Tony Thrown makes his way to Lincoln Road, he takes the back alleys that run behind the tourist boulevard. He emerges into the light at Pennsylvania Avenue, an old refrigerator shelf stacked on his head like an oversize hat ready to be knocked off by the next puff of breeze. Hunching slightly under the weight of his headdress, he pulls behind him a laundry cart stuffed with metal and plastic containers. He spreads out his wares on the concrete walkway in front of a boarded-up building opposite the Lincoln Theatre, where an advertisement boasts of the New World Symphony's dedication to developing musical leadership. Thrown, a man who literally has drummed his way out of some of Boston's toughest ghettos, performs a striking counterpoint to the symphony's statement of commitment to its young players. He is at once a cultural asset, part of the essential spice of Miami Beach's arts scene, and a frequent target of the city's fitful purges of... More >>>