Giorgio Morandi, 1890-1964 (Metropolitan Museum, 1000 Fifth Ave., up through Dec. 14). It’s too crowded, too noisy, and poorly hung, but the Met’s Morandi exhibition, the first ever to come to the United States, is still a major event, a retrospective of one hundred and ten paintings and works on paper by one of the greatest and least sufficiently appreciated still-life painters of the twentieth century. Unless you take the trouble to go to Bologna’s Museo Morandi, it’s unlikely that you’ll ever get another chance to see this many Morandis at one time, so pick an off hour, pack a set of earplugs, and dive in (TT).

Joseph Epstein, Fred Astaire (Yale, $22). The latest addition to Yale’s “Icons of America” series is a 198-page tribute to America’s greatest dancer by one of America’s best essayists. Witty, thoughtful, concentrated, and astute, Fred Astaire goes a long way toward conveying the essential quality of an intensely private man who only seems to have come fully to life in the studio. Unlike most commentators, Epstein also pays proper attention to Astaire’s singing, but most of the book is devoted to his dancing–and, no less interestingly, the persona he projected in his films and TV appearances. After Arlene Croce’s indispensable 1974 monograph on the Astaire-Rogers films, this is the Fred Astaire book to have if you’re only having two (TT).

David Sheward, Rage and Glory: The Volatile Life and Career of George C. Scott (Applause, $29.95). The first full-scale biography of the actor who turned down an Oscar for Patton, Rage and Glory serves as a useful reminder that there was far more to George C. Scott than his legendary temper. Detailed and decently written, it devotes as much attention to his stage career as to the films–most of them, alas, awful–for which he is now best remembered. As for the films, take a look at Anatomy of a Murder, Dr. Strangelove, The Hustler, and The Hospital if you haven’t done so lately. Along with Patton, they’re the only worthy movies that Scott made, but they’re good enough to ensure that he won’t be forgotten (TT).

Equus (Broadhurst, 235 W. 44, closes Feb. 8). A masterpiece it’s not, but Peter Shaffer’s 1973 play about a mentally disturbed stableboy and the psychatrist who has second thoughts about curing him is a spectacular piece of theater-for-its-own-sake, impressive enough that it’s easy to overlook the creakiness of the play’s intellectual underpinnings. This is the first Broadway revival of Equus, for which Daniel Radcliffe presumably deserves credit. Not surprisingly, the presence of Harry Potter in the cast has captured the imagination of the mass media–especially since he strips to the buff and runs around the stage in the next-to-last scene–but Radcliffe turns out to be a damned fine actor, while Richard Griffiths, lately of The History Boys, is as good as it gets (TT).

The Soprano Summit in 1975 and More (Arbors). No, not that kind of soprano. This two-CD set contains fifteen previously unissued concert recordings by Soprano Summit, the celebrated jazz combo that featured Kenny Davern and Bob Wilber on soprano saxophone and clarinet. Soprano Summit was one of the finest traditional jazz groups of the Seventies–maybe ever–and these piping-hot performances show why it made so lasting an impression. (Marty Grosz’s wonderfully old-fashioned rhythm guitar is especially prominent in the mix.) If this CD doesn’t make you smile, get your face fixed. Also included are nine additional live tracks separately featuring Davern and Wilber in the company of Dick Wellstood and Ruby Braff (TT).

Adrienne Farb: Recent Paintings and Works on Paper (Mary Ryan Gallery, 527 W. 26, closes Saturday). Complex explosions of color from a New York-based abstract painter who fills her canvases with slashing, tightly packed vertical stripes that pulse and throb. Farb’s work recalls the purity of the color-field painters of the Sixties, reimagined in wholly contemporary terms (TT).

Paul Moravec, Cool Fire/Chamber Symphony (Naxos, out Sept. 30). Two new large-scale pieces of chamber music by my Pulitzer Prize-winning operatic collaborator, performed to perfection by a group of instrumentalists from the Bridgehampton Chamber Music Festival and now available for pre-ordering from amazon.com. I wrote the liner notes: “Pure Moravec from first bar to last, full of heart-lifting melodies and enlivened by the proliferating rhythmic energy which propels the light-footed, almost Mendelssohnian scherzi that are to be found in most of Paul’s multi-movement works. Note, too, the ingeniously wrought small-scale instrumentation, whose luminous transparency reminds me at times of Ravel.” Yes, he’s that good (TT).

David Thomson, “Have You Seen…?”: A Personal Introduction to 1,000 Films (Knopf, $39.95). A companion volume to The New Biographical Dictionary of Film in which my favorite film critic holds forth on a thousand variously significant movies–some great, some good, some awful–all discussed in quirky single-page essays that are models of pithy, quotable idiosyncrasy. Have You Seen…? will be the book of the season for smart filmgoers who love a good argument (TT).