This was definitely my favourite performance from the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Yes, we’ve seen “America” countless times before and, sure, it would have been great to see a number like “Cool” instead. But putting that point to one side, the performance of this number was super and I may like Natalie Cortez even more than Karen Olivo. The dancing is super and, except for some weird angles from the way they’ve had to use the performance space, this extract was just about perfect – even if one moment of choreography was made a little more family friendly than usual. The “location” performances really do deal with many of the same challenges in the context of this parade, and this one faced them head on and came out tops for me.

I figured the best place for me to start at for my inspiration blog is to talk about what inspired me to pursue a career in music.

I began playing piano when I was six years old. I knew right away it was something I loved doing. I never needed to be told to practice, and could barely pass by my piano without sitting down to play. It was something that I not only excelled at, but also something that brought me an immense amount of joy. Within a year of playing, I knew that music was something that I would always have to have in my life.

When I was ten, we had the chance to pick an instrument to play in band or orchestra at my school. With some light pressuring from the band teacher (also a horn player), I chose the french horn. Even though I loved the horn, it always took a second seat to my first love, the piano. This was true all the way until my junior year of high school. That year I made it to All-State orchestra. I still remember vividly the finale of the concert, the fourth movement of Tchaikovsky’s fifth symphony. It was in that moment, of performing the piece and the rush of joy that came after, I felt that I knew that I could do nothing else with my life.

To this day, if I have any doubts about what I am doing and what all this hard work is for, I simply have to listen to that last movement to know that I am on the right path.

Here is the last part of the finale of Tchaikovsky’s fifth, conducted by Leonard Bernstein

Just saw this quote from the great American conductor/composer Leonard Bernstein, who wrote West Side Story, among other famous works.

“The most rational minds in history have always yielded to a slight mystic haze when the subject of music has been broached, recognising the beautiful and utterly satisfying combination of mathematics and magic that music is.”

Stuff like this always reminds me how thankful I am to be able to do what I do for a living.

HT: @brookefraser

I am the last in a line of visionaries.

My grandfather, Rabbi Moses Steinberg, immigrated to the United States from Odessa, Russia, and felt the need to create a new religion: Americanism. His dream combined Judaism and the Constitution.

In addition to translating the Sermon on the Mount for the Smithsonian Institution Bible, he published a book himself, “The Greatest Story Never Told.” I found long letters to politicians in the many papers left to me when my family died, as lung cancer took them one by one. His letters seemed to transmogrify a miscellaneous political detail into an erupting volcano. They didn’t make much sense to me. I suspect schizophrenia caressed him.

However, the shtetl he fled when the Cossacks burned it down had a tradition. The men studied Torah; the women worked. My grandmother Annie arrived in America on Sept. 19, 1906 on the SS Carmania and saw the Statue of Liberty.

I can only imagine what this meant to her after feeling the heat and fear of the fires that burned her world to the ground. She sewed to support the family.

My mother told me that Annie could make a dress out of less fabric than anyone else she’d ever met because she knew where to cut. There was genius in Annie, and madness in Moses. Their daughter Dorothy was older sister to Benjamin, my father.

All great artists live on the fine line separating genius and madness. My father grew up in a world where immigrant Jews worshiped Heifitz’s mother, who locked him in a room daily for 8 hours to make him practice. Only then could he eat.

Misha Elmann was another star in that world. I have an autographed picture of him calling my father one of his best friends. Everyone wanted their child to be the next Misha Elmann.

My father made his Town Hall debut on the violin when he was 9. On the program was a Hebrew Dance by Achron, and he ended with the Polonaise Brilliante in A Major by Wieniawsky, one of the most technically difficult pieces in the violin repertoire. They marketed him as Little Ben.

But he went on to be in the first violin section of the NBC Symphony, study conducting with Fritz Reiner, conduct the original Music Man, Peter Pan, and West Side Story on Broadway, hire the first African-American musician in a Broadway pit orchestra against the segregation laws in the 1940s, conduct the Ballet Russes de Monte Carlo, American Ballet Theatre, the Ballet Nacional de Cuba, and started the first integrated orchestra in America, The Symphony of the New World. Leonard Bernstein wrote the letter recommending the project for the Ford Foundation grant.

Like Moses, my father was also a visionary. He was just not “touched by the angels.” He dreamed of social equality coming to life on the symphony orchestra’s stage.

The first African-American woman timpanist ever hired by the San Francisco Symphony came out of The Symphony of the New World, so did the first woman accepted into the violin section of the New York Philharmonic, so did the first African-American cellist in the New York City Ballet Orchestra.

The Symphony of the New World died because there was a power struggle, and those who won didn’t know how to pay the bills of a non-profit organization. My mother saved all the papers.

It took him a year an a half to die of pancreatic and lung cancer in our one-bedroom Manhattan apartment. On January 4, 1974, my mother held his hand. I went to school. When I came home, he was gone. I will never forget his yellow skin, but I think he died of a broken heart.

Someone he knew back then wrote

Where is your grave –
Or maybe even just a mound –
Benjamin Steinberg?
Where can we put a monument?
There is no grave.
You cannot be frozen into a statue,
Like some docile teacher’s pet.
You blaze
From the pedastals of the world stage,
Benjamin Steinberg.

Thirty-five years later, because I still cannot come to terms with losing the only soul’s reflection I have ever known, I wrote this:

In the name of the father
In the name of the daughter
In the name of justice
Over unnecessary death
Of a broken heart
Of a broken spirit
From a broken dream
By a man who dared

In the name of his symphony
Whose light might shine
On another day
For this generation
To stand for peace
In a world that screams war
In the name of the father
In the name of ideals
In the name of her grief
That has never died

After 35 years
In the name of the daughter
who inherited the spirit
who inherited the faith
In the name of courage
To believe again
That art could stop war

In the name of the father
In the name of the daughter
In the name of justice
In the name of peace
The dream still lives
The grief still kills
In the name of the father
In the name of love.

I wasn’t a good enough violinist to do what my father dreamed for me: make my Carnegie Hall Debut before I was 18, or be in the NY Philharmonic. I never could concentrate to practice enough.

I discovered my art form in 1994. It was online community vision, creation, management, moderation, writing, and multimedia. In that field, no one had to tell me to practice.

There is a Hebrew prayer for Yom Kippur, “In Memory of a Father.” It says in part, “In loving testimony to his life I pledge charity to help perpetuate ideals important to him… May I prove myself worthy of the gift of life and the many other gifts he gave me. May these moments of meditation link me more strongly with his memory.”

I have tried to fulfill this all of my life, even though I never knew this prayer existed until I was 50. DNA might be strong in pureblood Russian Ashkenzay Jews, but what can you do when you come from a man like this?

Whether I succeeded or failed, I am the last in line. I don’t have much time. Writing this blog is something. Anything, to pay homage to his name and finally come to terms with who I am, and realize that my whole life has been a love poem to him.

In 1994, I turned on the computer. In 1997, I went to the Interactive Telecommunications Program at NYU and learned that the purpose of online community was to stop war. Then, I based my life on my own words:

The product that an online community gives away is power. Members invest their emotions in one, and the community gives them back a stake in its future, its philosophy and its governance. …to create a stage where you can be understood when society ignores you. …to feel the warmth of someone’s soul imprint through their words, even when they live thousands of miles away. …to find validity when the real world is blind to you. …to find a soul mate when your body is wasting away from disease. These are some of the reasons why people who are involved in online communities are so passionate about them. They can give you the power to control your dignity.

I’ve devoted 15 years to being a member of online communities, helping to create its collective storytelling art, and working in the field. This book is a collection of the essays I wrote as I share the journey of my real and virtual lives, which became intertwined as one inseparable reality.

By Eileen Wingard

SAN DIEGO– When my daughter Myla Wingard first encounted Lucas Richman at the Brandeis-Bardin Institute, she excitedly informed me that this young man, with prodigious musical talents, was sure to become recognized as a second Leonard Bernstein. Like Bernstein, Richman was a gifted pianist, composer and conductor.

Although Lucas Richman is not yet a household name, Myla’s assessment may prove correct. 

Richman was in San Diego during the first week of November for premiere performances of Behold the Bold Umbrellaphant, his orchestral setting of Children’s Poet Laureate Jack Prelutsky’s book of whimsical poems. The half hour composition, with the celebrated poet narrating, proved to be a hit with the young audiences at the four youth concerts and the Sunday Family Festival Concert, all under the enthusiastic direction of the San Diego Symphony Orchestra’s Assistant Conductor, Philip Mann.
    
My ten-year-old granddaughter Adira commented, “I enjoy music with narration. It makes it much more interesting. I especially liked the way the music used sandpaper to sound like the Ballpoint Penquins writing, and I liked the bell that sounded for the Pop-Up Toadsters.” Richman’s clever orchestration mirrored Prelutsky’s imaginative texts and gave the young listeners a wonderful taste of the varied textures of orchestral sounds.

Richman has had his music performed by over two hundred orchestras in the last decade and his works written for children have been featured in young people’s concerts by orchestras such as the Atlanta Symphony, the Pittsburgh Symphony, where he served for six years as assistant, then resident conductor, and the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra, where he has been Music Director since 2003.
    
He is especially proud of the Music & Wellness Program he has developed in Knoxville, bringing instrumental music into hospitals and convalescent homes. The Knoxville Symphony Orchestra has recorded “We Share a Bond,” his song for breast-cancer awareness.
    
Richman’s choral work, Arise Triumphant, O Blessed Muse!, was premiered in 2005 with the great soprano Frederica von Stade as soloist. His Concerto for Oboe was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Symphony and premiered in 2006, and the Knoxville Symphony presented his Concerto for Percussion in March, 2009.     

Lucas Richman has appeared as guest conductor with numerous orchestras, including the New York Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He has also conducted many award-winning film scores in Hollywood.Richman’s compositions include works of Jewish inspiration such as a setting of Kol Nidre for voice, two violins, cello and harp.
    
Raised in the San Fernando Valley, Lucas Richman is one of five children of actor Peter Mark Richman, currently appearing at the Pico Playhouse in The Value of Names.
    
When my daughter Myla was working at the Brandeis-Bardin Institute, Richman and she played in a klezmer band which once came down to San Diego for a rousing performance at the 54th Street Jewish Community Center.
    
For two summers, during which Richman was the Music Director and Conductor for the Young Musicians Foundation Debut Orchestra Summer Camp in Los Angeles, my niece, Avlana Eisenberg, was his assistant conductor. He was a wonderful mentor, allowing her ample opportunity to work with the young musicians and conduct a work at each culminating concert.
    
During his stay in San Diego, I had the pleasure of having lunch with the brilliant musician and his eleven-year-old son Max, and Myla’s family took Lucas, his wife Debbie and his son to Legoland. It was a joyful reunion.

Behold the Bold Umbrellaphant, commissioned by the San Diego Symphony Orchestra, will have additional performances throughout the community, including a January 29 performance at 10:00 a.m. at the Lawrence Family JCC sponsored by the Nierman Preschool.  For ticket information, call 858-362-1150.  
      
*
Wingard is a freelance writer and former violinist with the San Diego Symphony.

How many nights I’ve spent lying on the bed with this song playing on my walk-man (yes, walk-man, with cassette), being in love. The name of my beloved ones was never Maria, but I liked the song (I was imagining that the singer was saying her name instead of Maria). The music comes from probably the greatest musical ever played, the West Side Story. West Side Story is an American musical with a book by Arthur Laurents, music by Leonard Bernstein, and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. The musical’s plot is based on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

Set in New York in the mid-1950s, the musical explores the rivalry between the Jets and the Sharks, two teenage street gangs of different ethnic and cultural backgrounds. The members of the Sharks are first-generation Americans from Puerto Rico taunted by the Jets, a white  group who consider themselves the true Americans. The young protagonist, Tony, one of the Jets, falls in love with Maria, the sister of Bernardo, the leader of the Sharks. The dark theme, sophisticated music, extended dance scenes, and focus on social problems marked a turning point in American musical theatre. Bernstein’s score for the musical has become extremely popular.

1663 – Composer Friederich Wilhelm Zachow was born.
1719 – Composer Johann Georg Leopold Mozart was born.
1778 – Composer Johann Nepomuk Hummel was born.
1805 – Composer Fanny Cacilia Mendelssohn Hensel was born.
1900 – Composer Aaron Copland was born.
1943 – Leonard Bernstein made his debut with the New York Philhamonic.
1961 – The Elvis Presley film “Blue Hawaii” premiered.
1970 – Santana’s “Black Magic Woman” was released.
1995 – The Rolling Stones released their acoustic “Stripped” album.
2000 – Marilyn Manson’s released “Holy Wood (In The Shadow Of The Valley Of Death).”

L’altre dia, visitant el web del dibuixant Vizcarra, vaig descobrir algunes caricatures de personatges relacionats amb el món de la música. Si passeu el ratolí per damunt de la imatge sabreu qui és cada músic, tot i que penso que no caldria…

‘Maria, the most beautiful sound’.

Maria – West Side Story

What’s buzzin, cuzzins? This is a list of 5 of my favourite musicals of the 1950s, with slang courtesy of Fifties Web.

1. Gypsy

Gypsy is one of the greatest musicals of all time. Word from the bird, my friends, it is. A great book complemented by a great score. Take any song out and it leaves a big gaping theatrical gap in the show. Even a seemingly silly list number like “Mr Goldstone” shifts the show dramatically. Without it, we’d never know how genuinely thrilled Rose and her cohorts are, nor would we gain the insight that we do into Rose’s personality and capabilities that the song reveals. “Together Wherever We Go” shows us how the relationship between Rose, Louise and Herbie has shifted since the end of the first act. “Little Lamb” tells us almost everything we need to know about Louise. The vaudeville numbers provide period, yes, but their design also tells us about Rose and their performance reveals insight into June and Louise that a conventional scene couldn’t convey. And then we get Rose’s trio of numbers: the seductive “Some People”, the chillingly ironic “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” and the masterful “Rose’s Turn”. Every number has its purpose; there’s a perfect balance between the elements of musical theatre in this show. We could also get into the great “best Rose” debate, but that’s a no-brainer really: it’s Angela Lansbury, of course!

2. West Side Story

West Side Story is cool. A musical that fully integrated acting, singing and dance, that was set in contemporary urban society and that dealt with topical issues that are still relevant today – well, it’s groundbreaking in its conception any way you look at it. Then we get to the stunning Jerome Robbins staging, with choreographic contributions by Peter Gennaro. What was going through Arthur Laurents’s head when he cut down the “Somewhere” ballet, I’ll never know. That decision communicates a misunderstanding of the role of dance in live musical theatre that I simply can’t understand. (Yes, it was cut from the film, but it wouldn’t have worked there. It’s too abstract and is designed for the live energy of musical theatre performance in front of a real audience who is experiencing the show in the moment.) The original cast recording is an essential for any musical theatre fan’s collection and for a comparison of different recordings of the show, I’d refer to you a previous blog on this site dealing with that very issue. Sometimes the show is criticized these days for being dated, miscast with models or actors that are too old or both and so on, but it still has an ineffable magic that hits home when you see it. Perhaps a recent review I read sums it up: “it is after all West Side Story.

3. The Boy Friend

Sometimes I forget about The Boyfriend. But when I play the cast recording on Itunes, I always remember how much it razzes my berries. There is a notoriously bad film adaptation of the show, but this was my first exposure to the show and I watched it almost on a permanent loop when I was a child. For those who are not in the know, The Boyfriend is a 1950s show about the 1920s. Polly – Julie Andrews in the original Broadway cast – meets Tony and in true romantic comedy style, we know they will be together by the fall of the final curtain. Along the way, there’s a lot of fun to be had – camp fun, witty lyrics, mixed messages, cross purposes. It’s commedia dell’arte filtered through an English pastiche of the American musical. A true hybrid, then, and a winning one.

4. Guys and Dolls

Guys and Dolls. One of the most popular musicals of all time; people go ape for it. Even I’ve been involved in two productions: in high school I played the drunk and the Hot Box MC and danced in “Havana” and “The Crap Shooter’s Ballet” and a couple of years ago I choreographed a high school production of the show. In the decade in between, I’ve seen countless productions announced and produced. Generally, there’s a perception that it’s flop-proof, but I guess the most recent Broadway revival proved that theory wrong. People are ambivalent about the film and, while it’s not perfect, there’s much to enjoy: Brando as Sky, the stunning scene between Sarah and Sky in the mission, Michael Kidd’s choreography and so on. The show itself has a super book by Abe burrows and the score is – in a word – fantastic. Every number is memorable. For a special treat, get yourself a copy of the African-American 1976 Broadway Revival’s cast recording. It’s super, and the numbers are reborn in their new disco and gospel influences arrangements. Of course this is a supplement to either the original Broadway cast recording or the excellent 1995 studio recording of the complete score – one that perhaps sets the standard for all Guys and Dolls recordings.

5. My Fair Lady

Some people will tell you that My Fair Lady is perfect. I hate to be the party pooper, but it isn’t. It’s almost perfect and is certainly excellent for the most part, but in the opening number Higgins says that people who use English badly should be hung. And with that one lyric, Alan Jay Lerner contradicts every given circumstance of the character. In, say, Paint Your Wagon the mistake might not matter, given the character in whose mouth the words might be put. But here it matters in spades. It’s not the only linguistic error given to Higgins either, but I suppose we should just remember that Lerner was the Tim Rice of his day and be done with it. After all, there is a great deal to appreciate in the show: one of the most joyous overtures ever created, a book that is literary in its quality (thanks to the source material, natch) and many great songs (“I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face”, “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?”, “Show Me”, and the list goes on.) It’s a classic, and it deserves to be. But it’s not perfect.

Vi dirò una cosa: quando, l’altro giorno, ho sentito del pronunciamento della Corte europea dei diritti dell’uomo con cui veniva accolta la richiesta di una famiglia di Abano Terme circa la rimozione del crocefisso dall’aula scolastica frequentata dal figlio, a me è subito venuta in mente la Missa solemnis in re maggiore di Ludwig van Beethoven. Se avrete pazienza, spiegherò le tortuose ragioni che mi hanno portato a quel pensiero.

Innanzitutto, da materialista recidivo quale sono, permettetemi di puntualizzare un concetto: l’esposizione, l’esibizione del crocefisso non solo nelle aule scolastiche ma, più in generale, in tutte le strutture pubbliche è, oltre che una violenza culturale nei confronti di coloro i quali non credono o credono diversamente, soprattutto un segno di sottomissione ad un’entità intangibile e indimostrabile che ha per conseguenza l’accettazione del corollario di norme etico-morali statuite dal potere clericale. Tale accettazione, per giunta, è pedissequa, non sottoposta al vaglio di alcun accertamento di volontà, subliminale. E subliminale, occulta è la pressione che da quel simbolo promana. Il dovere di uno stato laico è pertanto quello di rimuovere ogni emblema che possa costituirsi come valore superiore, trascendente l’autorità dello stato stesso. Si tratta di un’elementare norma di buon senso, che non prefigura in nessun modo l’iconoclastia o l’autoritarismo: semplicemente, è un atto che pone ciascun individuo su un piano di assoluta parità. Non so voi, ma a me disturberebbe venir giudicato da un tribunale dove campeggiasse un crocefisso o una mezzaluna o una stella di Davide.

Questo mi porta a considerare l’invalsa affermazione che vorrebbe nelle presunte radici giudaico-cristiane della nostra storia la giustificazione dello status quo. E’ una falsificazione bella e buona della realtà. Prima del 303 d.C., anno che vide l’imperatore Costantino convertirsi alla religione della croce, in Italia mi pare ci fossero già da un po’ di tempo una cultura, una società e una religione assai diverse. Lo stesso dicasi per il resto del mondo, non solo d’Europa. Alla base del nostro diritto, per dire, c’è la codificazione romana, non la teodicea. La matematica e la filosofia si sono sviluppate nel mondo arabo e in quello greco. Dopo il 303 d.C. la religione della croce ha influenzato indubbiamente l’arte e la conoscenza, spesso però – o quasi sempre – violentandole se queste non andavano a suo vantaggio. E’ appena il caso di ricordare Giordano Bruno e Galileo Galilei. Per non tacere sulle persecuzioni ai vari eretici o presunti tali, che pure dovettero in seguito essere riabilitati. Poi venne l’illuminismo, venne il razionalismo, venne il positivismo, le scoperte mediche e la teoria dell’evoluzione, la fisica, le scienze naturali: tutto ciò non fa parte del patrimonio comune? Gli stati moderni si reggono sulla separazione dei poteri e le libertà individuali – ciò che la religione condanna perché massima aberrazione concepita dall’uomo che non si soggioga al potere spirituale. La storia dell’umanità è storia di lotte per l’emancipazione dalla schiavitù, e non si arresta, guai se si arrestasse. Non capirei altrimenti lo scalpore e la partecipazione per l’eroismo di quello studente che ha messo in discussione l’infallibilità della guida suprema iraniana: quando succede lì va bene, quando succede qui è veteromarxismo? Peccato che di quel ragazzo ora non si sappia più nulla, pare l’abbiano fatto sparire. In nome di dio.

Ma torniamo al crocefisso e a Beethoven. Beethoven nutriva un profondo sentimento religioso, benché non andasse in chiesa o seguisse la vita liturgica. Aveva anzi in astio gli esponenti del clero, così come l’aristocrazia. Questo tuttavia non gli impediva di frequentare i duchi e i conti suoi patroni, né Rodolfo d’Austria in seguito creato cardinale. Leggendo le cronache dei suoi contemporanei, Beethoven viene descritto alternatamente come un fervido credente e un sospetto ateo. La ragione di quest’ambivalenza si spiega con la concezione che egli aveva della natura, nella quale ravvisava l’esistenza di un armonioso creatore, e con le tappe dolorose della sua biografia. E’ stato forse il più geniale musicista e nel contempo il più sofferente degli artisti, a causa della povertà, della sordità e dell’idealismo intransigente di cui era impregnato. Aveva però un temperamento eccezionale, era animato da una volontà incrollabile, e sentiva di essere venuto al mondo per comporre la sua musica meravigliosa, per consentire agli uomini ascoltandola – l’ha detto lui stesso – di liberarsi delle catene in cui si trascinano. A questo punto dovreste avere una discreta esperienza con la musica beethoveniana, per capire quel che intendo. Se così non è, oltre all’esortazione a provvedere all’incresciosa lacuna, accluderò in calce all’articolo un filmato significativo.

Cos’era dio per Beethoven? Un mistero, certo, e altrettanto certamente un dato di fatto. Ma il dio che adorava non era quello che tutti comunemente pregavano, era un dio col quale pretendeva entrare in contatto egli stesso in prima persona, attraverso la musica, l’amore per la natura, la fiducia nei valori più cari all’umanità: amore, libertà, fratellanza, giustizia. Sarà per questo motivo che non ha composto molta musica sacra, preferendo dedicarsi a generi più espressivi. Se però avete ascoltato la Sinfonia n. 6 in fa maggiore o gli ultimi Quartetti per archi, vi sarete resi conto che il tema della ricerca del divino è costante nella sua opera, e che spesso assume un carattere consolatorio, deve lenire gli affanni terreni. Senza dimenticare, ovviamente, la Sinfonia n. 9 in re minore, quella dell’inno alla gioia per intenderci, dove fa ripetere al coro: «Ci dev’essere un padre benevolo sopra la volta stellata». Insomma, dio per Beethoven era a un tempo un caposaldo e un’incognita, e nonostante tutto non gli impedì di vivere seguendo soltanto la sua fiera volontà.

Che c’entra dunque la Missa solemnis? C’entra col fatto che io stesso, pur conservando l’incredulità, posso bearmi della grazia di questa musica solenne e religiosissima, fino alla commozione.

Composta poco prima della celebre Nona, è il lavoro più imponente di Beethoven, una sorta di spartiacque. Dura oltre un’ora, richiede un’orchestra e un coro folti, ed è scandita da cinque momenti come prevede la liturgia canonica. Per comporla, il sommo Ludwig studiò le messe delle epoche precedenti e ne fuse i modelli così da ottenere un unicum che contemplasse le tradizioni gregoriane, barocche, classiche, ecc. Pensate che cosa può fare la mente umana quando è sorretta da convinzioni profonde, dato che il povero Beethoven era sordo da ormai molti anni, in età e disilluso riguardo al futuro. E’ curioso che sebbene l’opera sia chiaramente di carattere religioso non venga mai eseguita come tale: in primo luogo a causa della lunghezza, in secondo luogo perché la magniloquenza dell’insieme ispira davvero emozioni che vanno al di là dell’aspetto confessionale.

Io l’ascolto con una certa regolarità e sempre sbalordisco. Qui sotto metto a vostra disposizione il primo movimento, nominato Kyrie eleison, ossia signore pietà. E’ bellissimo, credetemi, li vale tutti i dieci minuti che spenderete per ascoltarlo. Questa oltretutto è una buona registrazione: l’orchestra di Amsterdam diretta dal grande Leonard Bernstein.

In conclusione, tutta questa fiera di chiacchiere per dire una cosa banale: è stupido litigare per colpa della religione, è stupido imporre agli altri le proprie convinzioni. Si può andare a scuola o in municipio anche se i muri sono bianchi. Si può ascoltare una messa solenne anche se non si crede in dio. L’importante è la bellezza. L’importante è l’umanità.

Hallo,

ich komme noch einmal auf das bereits abgehandelte Thema “Sinn oder Unsinn der Beifallskundgebung in Kantaten-Konzerten” zurück. Ich habe mir das Oratorium von Joseph Haydn “Die Schöpfung” unter der Leitung von Leonard Bernstein in der Basilika Ottobeuren von 1986 angesehen. Was dort zum Schluss ablief, hat mich sehr nachdenklich gemacht. Nach dem Schluss-Satz des “Amen” war absolute Stille in der Basilika, der Dirigent und die Besucher verharrten ganz still, kein Applaus, nur die Glocken der Basilika waren zu hören. Danach verließen die Besucher die Kirche und ich war davon tief beeindruckt.

Was mag im Vorfeld abgesprochen sein, dass eine Beifallsbekundung unterblieb? Ich fand diese Art sehr sehr angemessen, es blieb genügend Zeit, alles während der Glockenschläge verinnerlichen zu können, diese Ruhe und Stille war beeindruckend und finde es nachahmenswert…!! Wahrscheinlich stehe ich mit dieser persönlichen Meinung allein auf weitem Feld und Flur…!! Einen Video-Ausschnitt von dem Konzert in der Basilika Ottobeuren von 1986 füge ich bei, hier geht es nur um den angesprochenen Schlussteil des Oratoriums von Joseph Haydn “Die Schöpfung”.

Lasst die Szenen einmal auf euch wirken und sagt mir dann einmal die persönliche Meinung dazu.

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Als Konteks dazu Sir John Eliot Gardiner aus seinem Reisetagebuch von SDG 156 Vol. 4 – CD eins -

von der Pilgrimage 2000 -Tour aus der Kirche St Gumbertus, Ansbach wie folgt:

Foto: Frentischer Schluss-Applaus für den Sir in der Nikolaikirche Leipzig beim Bachfest 2007

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Das letzte Mal waren wir 1981 hier in Ansbach, als man uns eingeladen hatte, fünf verschiedene Programme mit Bachs Musik aufzuführen. Der Chor übertraf sich damals selbst, und dies zu einer Zeit, als wir als English Baroque Soloists immer noch damit beschäftigt waren, unseren Weg als ein Ensemble zu finden, das sich der historischen Aufführungspraxis verschrieben hatte.

Neunzehn Jahrespäter wurde das erste Stück in unserem Programm, die Motette ‚Lobet den Herrn’, die mit einem überwältigenden ‚Hallelujah!’ endet, mit völliger Stille quittiert. Plötzlich fiel mir wieder ein, wie bestürzt ich damals war, als der zaghaft einsetzende Beifall mit lauten Pst!-Rufen erstickt wurde, 1981 und auch am Ende unseres ersten Auftritts 1979 hier.

Irgendwie wirkte es so, als würde der ganzen Sache der Reiz genommen – der Ehre, die man vermeintlich uns, den Ausländern, erwiesen hatte, als man uns auserwählte und einlud, an diesem führenden Bach-Fest teilzunehmen, fast einem Mekka (oder Bayreuth) der Bach-Feiern. Einige von uns hatten Mühe, nicht aufgebracht zu reagieren, nicht was die fehlende hörbare Zustimmung betraf, sondern die Einstellung, die hinter diesem kapriziösen Verzicht auf Applaus lag.

Der Grund dafür war nicht so sehr die (mangelnde) Qualität der Aufführung, jedoch vielmehr der pseudo-religiöse Respekt, den ein Publikum, das sich als wahrer Wächter der heiligen Bach-Flamme verstand, dieser Musik entgegenbrachte. Historisch nicht ganz stimmig an dieser exzessiven Bach-Huldigung ist, dass die Musik als ein statischer Gegenstand oder eine heilige Reliquie gesehen wird, während Bach eindeutig sehr großen Wert darauf legte, dass seine Musik aufgeführt wird, wie es uns im Laufe des Jahres immer wieder bestätigt worden war.

In gewisser Weise wird ihre Komposition erst während der Aufführung ‚vollendet’, und das ist der Grund, warum wir als Musiker so achtsam jeder Spur folgen, die uns in der Notation der Kantaten Hinweise auf Bachs eigene Aufführungspraxis gibt.

Wir sind auch bestrebt, ein produktives und dynamisches Dreiecksverhältnis zu schaffen, zwischen dem Komponisten Bach, der sein Werk selbst aufgeführt hat, uns als Musikern, die es neu erschaffen, und schließlich dem Publikum, das an diesem Prozess teilhat. So war es in allen ostdeutschen Städten gewesen, wo wir in diesem Jahr aufgetreten waren.

Doch wenn die Zuhörer als begeisterte Bach-Anhänger zu dem Schluss gelangt sind, das Gelände verteidigen zu müssen, kann diese lebenswichtige chemische Reaktion zwischen ihnen und uns nicht mehr stattfinden, und damit entfällt auch der ‚Auftrieb’, den ein reaktionswilliges Publikum einem auftretenden Ensemble geben könnte.

Diese Überlegungen traten in ein anderes Licht, als eine ältere Dame nach dem Konzert am Morgen nach vorn kam und mir ein Sträußchen mit Blumen aus ihrem Garten überreichte. Die letzte Spur Groll verschwand, als sie am Abend mit einem noch größeren Strauß wiederkam, diesmal aus wilden Wiesenblumen.

- Zitat – Ende -

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In einem Interview mit der NW vom 20.10.2009 nahm der englische Star-Violonist Daniel Hope zu dem Thema Applaus wie folgt Stellung:

Frage:

Herr Hope, ich habe in einem Benimmbuch aus den 50er Jahren gelesen, dass man den Künstler nach einem Konzert nicht mit allzu langem Beifall bedenken sollte, weil er vom Musizieren müde sei. Sagen Sie mir bitte, dass das nicht wahr ist.

DANIEL HOPE:

(lacht) Ich würde sehr traurig sein, wenn das wahr wäre. Natürlich kann man sehr müde sein nach einem Konzert, aber für mich persönlich ist Applaus das schönste Geräusch nach der Musik. Es ist das Signal des Publikums an den Künstler, dass die Botschaft angekommen ist.

Frage:
Sie sind gerade in Aix-en-Provence gemeinsam mit Anne-Sophie von Otter aufgetreten mit Liedern aus dem KZ Theresienstadt. Wenn man um den Hintergrund dieser Musik weiß, kann da Applaus nicht auch fehl am Platze wirken?

HOPE:

Ja, das kann es. Wir haben gerade mit diesem Programm unterschiedlichste Reaktionen erlebt. Bei den Kabarettliedern, die im KZ zur Ablenkung geschrieben wurden, hat sich manches Publikum richtig in den Applaus hinein gesteigert, ein anderes Publikum hat eher zurückhaltend reagiert, weil es spürte, zu viel Applaus wäre fehl am Platz. In Frankreich haben die Leute sehr schnell und sehr stark nach allem applaudiert. Das war für uns Musiker nicht ganz einfach, weil das zum Teil sehr traurige Lieder sind und sich eine gewisse Spannung aufgebaut hat. Man will als Musiker manchmal ein paar Sekunden der Stille genießen, und das ist dann nicht möglich.

- Zitat – Ende -

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Die gegensächlichen Aussagen von Daniel Hope und J.E. Gardiner zum Thema “Applaus” können nicht unterschiedlicher ausfallen. Ich kann mich noch sehr gut an die Aufführung von Sir John Eliot Gardiner – mit der Matthäus-Passion am 6. März 2005 – im Kaiserdom von Königslutter erinnern. In diesem Beitrag hatte ich folgende Aussage zum Konzert getätigt:

Besonders beeindruckend, wie innerlich bewegend die gesamten Solisten, ob Chor oder Orchester sowie J.E. Gardiner, bei den Gesangspartien des Evangelisten, die Augen geschlossen und die Hände gefaltet, den Worten und der Musik lauschend zuhörten.
Das Publikum wurde dermaßen von diesen Passagen des Werkes eingenommen, dass selbst das Husten unterblieb. Nach dem Schluss-Ton geriet man in einen Trancezustand, absolute Stille umgab die Aufführungsstätte, Gardiner verharrte in sich gekehrt und entschwand kurze Zeit später von der Bühne um nicht wieder zurückzukehren.

Mein Umkehrschluss zur Aussage von Sir Gardiner aus dem Jahre 2000 zu Ansbach und zur Aufführung in Königslutter. Es lagen mittlerweile 5 Jahre dazwischen, hat Sir Gardiner eine neue Sicht auf diese Thematik bekommen – dass in einem sakralen Raum beim Erklingen einer Passions-Musik auf eine Beifallsbekundung zu verzichten ist, anders kann ich sein Verhalten in Königslutter nicht deuten und bin der Meinung, dass dieses Verhalten sich als richtig erweist.

Sicherlich vertritt subjektiv jeder eine andere Meinung, aber mir hat diese Schluss-Art  von Königslutter und aus der Basilika Ottobeuren – auf Applaus zu verzichten sehr gut gefallen und wünschte, das würde weiterhin Bestand haben…!!

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Link zum alten Beitrag: “Sinn oder Unsinn der Beifallskundgebung in Kantaten-Konzerten”

http://meinhardo.wordpress.com/2008/01/24/sinn-oder-unsinn-der-beifallskundgebung-in-kantaten-konzerten/

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Gruß

Volker

The words “great” and “greatest” appeared several times during my research into Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979), both on the Internet and from books that I own.

Why was I looking for references about her? Because I had come across her name yet one more time, recently, causing me to go over the tipping point, not able to resist getting to know her better.

Last week a friend had given me a book, What to Listen for in Music by the composer of quintessentially American music, Aaron Copland, and in the foreword by Alan Rich was a reminder that Copland had been a pupil of Boulanger.

Leonard Bernstein congratulating Nadia Boulanger, after she became the first woman to conduct the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in a full concert, February, 1962. [Secondary Source]

Most simply put, she can be considered “the greatest” because she was teacher to so many renown composers and performing artists, some of whom were great teachers in their own right—Aaron Copland, for one.

These are some of the American students of Nadia Boulanger:

Although Leonard Bernstein’s name is linked for many reasons with that of Nadia Boulanger, he apparently was not a pupil of hers. But, he was a pupil of a pupil of hers: Walter Piston.

Boulanger, in 1928, rejected as a student one of America’s most important composers, George Gershwin. “What could I give you that you haven’t already got?” she asked him. [Source]

I most recently saw Boulanger’s name while reading Sylvia Beach and the Lost Generation, by Noël Riley Fitch. Beach was the owner of the famed “Shakespeare & Company” bookshop in Paris to which Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ford Maddox Ford, Ezra Pound and many other writers of the 1920s and 1930s gravitated, along with musicians and other artists. Several of these musicians and future composers were in Paris because of Nadia Boulanger, thus offering the creative and disciplined influence of these two remarkable women who apparently never met each other. In chapter seven of her book, Fitch offers these anecdotes:

Aaron Copland (1900-1900)

Most of the regular customers of the bookshop were writers, but among them were four composers: Satie, Antheil, Virgil Thomson, and Aaron Copland…Copland, who had joined the lending library [of the bookshop] had time to read [Sylvia’s] books in spite of being worked “terribly hard” by Nadia Boulanger, the great French teacher of musical composition to more than a generation of American composers…Because of Stravinsky, Ravel, Schönberg, Strauss, Satie and the music school of Nadia Boulanger, young American composers went to Europe, particularly Paris, to complete their professional education. In America, musical training was predominantly Germanic and old-fashioned, but in Paris, according to Copland, Boulanger knew “pre-Bach to Post-Stravinsky…cold.”

Although only the names of male composers have entered this narrative so far, Nadia Boulanger was teacher and mentor to a number of women in the field of music. In A History of Classical Music, on which I commented previously, the author, Barrymore Laurence Scherer writes:

Ruth Crawford Seeger (1901-1953)

During [Ruth Crawford's] European travels she was embraced by such pre-eminent musical figures such as Bartók, Honneger, and Nadia Boulanger…Among Nadia Boulanger’s American students were other women who achieved positions of distinction as composers, among them Marion Bauer (1882-1955) and Louise Talma 1906-1996). Bauer…had learned French from her parents; when introduced to Boulanger…in 1906, she offered to give Boulanger English lessons in return for lessons in composition, and thus became Boulanger’s first American student.

But, what was it like to study with Nadia Boulanger; what was so special that the most talented people sought her out? We can get a glimpse from Philip Glass.

Around a year ago I bought the book Writings on Glass: Essays, Interviews, Criticism, edited by Richard Kostelanetz. I have been fascinated with Glass’s music for almost two decades, especially since having viewed and bought the film Koyaanisqatsi, for which he wrote the musical score. The film has no spoken dialog. “In the Hopi language, the word Koyaanisqatsi means ‘crazy life, life in turmoil, life out of balance, life disintegrating, a state of life that calls for another way of living’” [Source]

In an early chapter of the book we learn that Glass went to study with Boulanger in 1963, at age 26, because a musical colleague whom he admired had studied with her. Glass had already completed his studies at the Juilliard School of Music.

(Transcribed from an interview by Ev Grimes)

Boulanger wasn’t interested in the music I had written…I started studying first species counterpoint with her again…I studied counterpoint and harmony with her for over two years…

She had a variety of techniques that she was teaching. They included score reading, counterpoint, harmony, figured bass, and analysis…With Boulanger, nothing was theoretical; it was all practical. The rules of harmony she could describe in a few sentences, but you could spend years writing it, because to her the difference between technique and theory was that technique was practice. Harmony is practice, counterpoint is practice—neither is theory…

You took three classes with her a week…[The] Black Thursday class…was a special class…[Y]ou were asked to that class; you couldn’t request it. She put together six or eight students…It would start at nine o’clock and would go till noon. The subject of the class was announced at the beginning, and we rarely accomplished it…When we left the class, we would sit in the café across the street. No one would say anything; we would have our coffee or a beer, then we would part until we got together the next week. No one would say anything [repeated]. It was totally demoralizing in one way. We all knew we were either her best students or her worst students, but none of us knew which ones we were…

One can read more of Nadia Boulanger and her teaching goals and methods from these sources:

List of students and others associated with Nadia Boulanger

[Click!]

This is a list of 5 of my favourite musicals of the 1940s. Anyone who is even vaguely interested in musical theatre should know about these shows and if you don’t… well, there’s no better time than the present to begin!

1. South Pacific

South Pacific is my favourite of the Rodgers and Hammerstein shows. To take a couple of short stories and weave them into a full length musical is no mean feat, but to do it with a book that really stands on its own feet dramatically and a score in which there are no bad songs is simply amazing. Only one minor problem exists in the last half of the second act, when the score tapers away to allow the action to wrap itself up, but the montage of scenes that tells what what happens with De Beque and Cable is probably the only way that part of the story and the reprises probably serve the show better by reinforcing theme, character and development than introducing a number of new songs would. It’s perhaps the prefect representation of the classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musical.

2. Oklahoma!

Oklahoma! It’s all about a picnic, right? A simple romance with the lovers working at cross purposes until they finally get together before the final curtain falls. I suppose that’s the easy way to look at it, but in the hands of Rodgers and Hammerstein, Oklahoma! transcends its humble narrative and becomes and allegory for a time in American history that was fraught with conflict and uncertainty, the mileau against which the show itself is set. What else does it have to offer? One – a charming score with songs that sound so much like the American landscape that one wonders at the fact that they didn’t exist before Rodgers and Hammerstein created them for this show. Two – a mode of storytelling that uses dance as an inextricable part of the action, not just in the famous dream ballet but throughout the show. Three – when it’s done right, a show that really rises to the mark in terms of dramatic tension; just who is going to win that auction on the picnic basket? Don’t know? Well go and buy the DVD of the RNT production and find out!

3. Carousel

Carousel offers us the rawest emotional experience of any Rodgers and Hammerstein musical. As in Oklahoma!, we have a largely excellent score and an engaging multi-modal storytelling experience. It’s true that perhaps some elements of the show fall just short of knitting into a perfect whole, but almost perfect is good enough for me. The highlights of this show are breathtaking: the opening “Carousel Waltz”, the flawlessly constructed bench scene, Louise’s heart-wrenching ballet in the second act and one of Rodgers’ most dynamic scores. If you don’t have a cast recording of this show, you need to get at least one. Not sure which? Read this blog which compares the various recordings of the show and get one now!

4. On the Town

“Finally”, I hear you say, “We are out of Rodgers and Hammerstein territory!” And the show that gets us there is On the Town. On the Town is haunted by two tragedies: firstly, the original Jerome Robbins choreography was never notated so all we have on record is what he could remember when he reconstructed his work for Jerome Robbins’ Broadway and, secondly, the film version chucked out the heart of the score leaving us with all entertainment and no enlightenment and hoofing instead of dance. (That said, the film version is very entertaining, but it is so different that it is an entirely separate entity.) Leonard Bernstein’s score (with lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green) is by turns thrilling (“New York New York”), comical (“Come Up to My Place”, “I Can Cook Too”) and deeply moving (“Lonely Town”). It’s the classic show from the 1940s that perhaps deserves more recognition that it receives.

5. Kiss Me, Kate

Last show on this list is another not quite perfect show: Cole Porter’s Kiss Me, Kate. What’s wrong with it? Well, conceptually, there’s no real clear choice made regarding what the show within the show is supposed to be, resulting in some moments in which require one to push to the limits of one’s suspension of disbelief, not the least of which involves two gangsters suddenly performing a musical number within the scope of the show within the show. That’s one of the very few things the film adaptation got right, shifting the song into the alley behind the theatre as a non-diegetic piece of advice for leading man Fred Graham. But once you’re that conceptual flaw, there’s a great love story being told here with a great score, offering some of Porter’s most moving work (“So in Love”) and some of his wittiest lyrics (“Wunderbar, “Tom, Dick, or Harry” and “Where is the Life that Late I Led?”). It’s a gem.

Still shot from the Joffrey Ballet doing "The Rite of Spring"

First off, let me just say WOW. Igor Stravinsky really knew what he was doing, and it just goes to show that taking risks can turn out great. Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring” is a piece so powerful and distinct, but also completely adaptable and versatile. Written as a ballet about Russian paganism and human sacrifice, the piece is unmistakable for its sense of barbaric intensity. The pounding, polyrhythmic drums and HARSH dissonance combine so perfectly that if one knew the plot of the ballet, they could imagine the story by the music alone without ever seeing a single dancer.

At the same time, the piece can be used in different contexts and still fit the bill. An abridged and altered version of “The Rite of Spring” was used in Disney’s Fantasia (the 1940 version, not the piece of crap released in 2000). In it, the piece was matched up with bright colors and animations that depicted the dawn of time. It begins with flashes of color, washing together and fading away, like the first signs of life swimming in primordial soup. Later the piece shows the rise and fall of the dinosaurs–meteors come crashing down to the earth, killing the giant creatures as the music’s controlled chaos takes off. While Stravinsky himself called Disney’s interpretation execrable, I think it fits.

There have been tons of ballets set to “The Rite of Spring,” and each one has its own distinct flavor. Having watched several snippets of these dances on youtube, I’m taken aback by how many stories the song can tell. Sure, each dance is connected through a thread of primitiveness that often borders on the erotic, but there is definitely something different about each one. In some dances, the human is emphasized. In others, the choreographer took a more animalistic approach. Some chose to use softer movements while others jerk around in a way that almost seems spasmodic. Try using Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” to tell more than one story. It just doesn’t really work that way.

What’s also distinctive about “The Rite of Spring” is that the conductors and players of the piece are in charge of making their own connections to convey a particular feeling. When Leonard Bernstein was directing a student orchestra in 1987, he had an incredible way of using anecdote and physical expression to show the students what he wanted. Of course, if anyone can do that, it’s him–Bernstein’s conducting made even a simple, two-octave, C-major scale sound so powerful and masterful. His use of dynamics and tempo turned what is usually the most boring part of music into something ripe with emotion. Through his conducting, Bernstein explains that a level of virtuosity is necessary in playing but it’s not enough. There is a level of raw emotion that each person needs to feel if they want to portray the piece’s story to its fullest.

Articulating the way music can make a person feel is not an easy task. Words aren’t always enough for Bernstein, and his conducting and explanations are full of guttural noises, jerky and smooth arm motions, and a wide range of facial expressions. His face contorts as the music changes–he grimaces, he smiles, and he raises his brows so high they look as if they might pop off of his face. At times he punches and claws at the air like an animal, and one orchestra member commented on his “erotic dancing” (how a man in his 70s can dance erotically is beyond me, but clearly it got the kid thinking, and that was the point). The fact is, music is visceral, and it seems to almost possess and pass through Bernstein as he conducts. Personally, I think that kind of reaction is necessary for all truly successful music-making. If you aren’t really feeling it, then you aren’t really playing it as hard or as well as you can. There’s rarely a time in one’s life where one can experience something that is both absolutely gut-wrenching and completely beautiful, but “The Rite of Spring” seems to evoke these paradoxical feelings, and it happens without mercy.

-K

…Oh, yes…  ¿Wouldn’t you like to be 17 or 18 years old, to be  in 1987 and to be one of the musicians of a youth orchestra?? ¿And wouldn’t you looove to be conducted by Leornard Bernstein and learn tons in the process?????… I would, I really would…

… This man must have been a real life-changing experience.. it is true: the world is a less interesting place, since Leonard Bernstein is no longer in it.

The celebration ended with "Gee Officer Krupke" from West Side Story.

Having been in choir for the past 15 years of my life, it would be an understatement to say that the songs of Leonard Bernstein have a special and nostalgic value to them. Growing up, my stepmom forced us to watch West Side Story more times than I can count, and seeing the way the music affected and entertained my family no matter what age or gender has made me realize just how approachable Bernstein’s works are. That being said, watching Michael Tilson Thomas’s “A Celebration of Leonard Bernstein” was  walk down memory lane. But more importantly, it shows the flexibility of Bernstein’s work and just how many different people his music has impacted and inspired, from cellist Yo-Yo Ma to famous soprano Christine Ebersole.

The performances took place on October 29th at Carnegie Hall, and featured famous Bernstein selections as played by the San Fransisco Symphony. The celebration opened with Symphonic Dances from West Side Story. Never in my life have I seen a symphony play with so much joy and vibrancy. Michael Tilson Thomas’s precise and passionate directing came together with the expertise of the players to create sounds that were composed and exact while being heartfelt and real enjoyment–there was this quality to the music that made it seem like the sounds themselves were dancing and smiling throughout the hall.

The vocal songs, too, were  very lively and done with great proficiency. Their performance of “I Can Cook Too” from On The Town featured Christine Ebersole and was fun and impossible not to tap your toes to. The Symphony showed its ability to play as a commanding front line or as a support for Ebersole, and Ebersole’s voice was full of personality and character–her growling alto range and powerful belts generated a sense of confidence and cheekiness that fit with the mood of the song excellently.

Another personal favorite of the show was  Yo-Yo Ma’s performance. I’m a huge fan of Yo-Yo Ma’s playing, and I was taken aback by his interpretation of “Meditation No. 1.” I loved the way his face and playing always seemed to match up perfectly–he is a perfect example of the way music can have a visceral effect on a musician or listener. There’s this palpable sense of intensity coming from his masterful playing in combination with the harsh yet meticulous accompaniment that the symphony played. In particular, I thought the way all the string parts contrasted and convened was remarkable and gripping.

My favorite part of the production in general was the overall versatility of the show. As I mentioned before, Bernstein’s works touch a lot of different people, and this is perhaps because of his wide range of compositions. Well I appreciated the video excerpts of Michael Tilson Thomas speaking with various soloists and musicians about their musical history and relationship with Bernstein, I did think they were a little contrived. The conversations felt forced and staged, and I would have rather experienced the musician’s answers through their playing rather through an insincere speech.

-K

1.) Follow shitmydadsays on Twitter

A guy named Justin posts some hilarious quotes his dad says.  Few things brighten up my day like when a tweet comes in from @shitmydadsays.  Here are a few selections;

“Son, people will always try and fuck you. Don’t waste your life planning for a fucking, just be alert when your pants are down.”

“I wanted to see Detroit win. I’ve been there. It’s like God took a shit on a parking lot. They deserve some good news.”

“I’m sitting in one of those TGI Friday’s places, and everyone looks like they want to shove a shotgun in their mouth.”

Hilarious!

2.) Dimitri Shostakovich Symphonies No. 1 & 7: Chicago Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Bernstein, conducting

Shostakovich’s 7th symphony, “Leningrad,” is one of my favorite pieces of music, and it is greatly due to this superb performance captured on this recording.  Few orchestral recordings capture the emotion and raw energy of a live performance like this does.  Combine that with the nearly flawless technical achievements, this recording is one of the best.  Ever.

3.) Mad Men

Holy shit!  Now I know what everyone is talking about!

We finally purchased the first two seasons off iTunes (the show is currently in its 3rd season on AMC) and it is incredibly addicting.  The development in this show is second to none, as just about every main character is an asshole you shouldn’t like, yet you are constantly gripped by what they’re going to do next.  Donald Draper, the main character is a scumbag.  Pete Campbell, the guy that is supposed to be a scumbag, is a scumbag.  Even Peggy Olsen, who was originally supposed to be the good person turns out to be a scumbag! (we’re just into the 2nd episode of the 2nd season….don’t know how everything else turns out)

By the way, AMC is knocking it out of the park with their original series as Breaking Bad, in my opinion, is the best drama on television since the early Sopranos.  Breaking Bad will get it’s own shout out once the new season starts…..but big props to AMC!

4.) The iPhone

The iPhone is the greatest personal use invention since man first used a rock to hit something.  I remember the days when I used to think, “Why the hell would anyone ever need a cell phone? ” Now I often wonder, “How the hell could I survive without my iPhone!”

Yes, AT&T is a big bag of rotting shit, but the iPhone itself transcends that bag and actually makes you tolerate AT&T so you can use it.  The apps on the iPhone make every day so much easier and so much more enjoyable.  If we’re sitting somewhere and wondering if there is a good movie we can see at the last minute, Flixter lets us know where to go.  If I have no clue where the hell a store is when I’m driving around, all I have to do is type that store’s name in the Maps app and the iPhone will give me turn by turn directions to the nearest one.

Whether it is tweeting where I’m at, reading #5 on this list or recording a quick memo of something for me to not forget, the iPhone is the world’s greatest personal assistant.

Oh yeah, and you can call people on it, too.

5.) The Huffington Post

One of the true pioneers in blogging, Arianna Huffington has put together one of the most important resources for anyone interested in politics, daily news and just general left wing progressive good times.  Not only does the Huffington Post have a fine collection of in-house bloggers, they also collect important stories from a wide variety of online media outlets.  In many ways, it is a liberal’s one-stop politics shop.

Now if only more people of the conservative mindset would spend more time on it………

The poster announced the concert celebrating Bernstein visit to Lawrence in 1983.

Leonard Bernstein was born at Lawrence General Hospital in Lawrence, Massachusetts, Sunday, 25 August 1918.  Lawrence was the home of his maternal family, the Resnicks, who came from Russia.  He later lived in Boston and went on to become a renowned composer, conductor, pianist, author and teacher.  He came to Lawrence August 25, 1983 to celebrate his 65^th birthday and to establish the Leonard Bernstein Scholarship Fund.  A concert performed by the Merrimack Valley Philharmonic Orchestra and the Great Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra, was held at the Lawrence memorial Stadium and a private reception was held at Lawrence High School.

Image via Wikipedia

Three notable persons received the Nobel Peace Prize on this date.  They include:

1964 – Martin Luther King, Jr., pastor and civil rights advocate, was named winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.  King once said, “An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.”

1986 – Holocaust survivor and human rights advocate Elie Wiesel was named winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.  He once said, “Hope is like peace. It is not a gift from God. It is a gift only we can give one another.”

1991 – Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi was named winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. And though she said the following about Burma, it is applicable to all nations:  “The struggle for democracy and human rights in Burma is a struggle for life and dignity. It is a struggle that encompasses our political, social and economic aspirations.”

On this date in 1990, the composer-conductor Leonard Bernstein died at age 72.  To watch the excellent video “Carnegie Hall Opening Night 2008: A Celebration of Leonard Bernstein,”  click here.

And on this day in 1894, e. e. cummings, American poet, was born.  Below is his poem “hate blows a bubble of despair.”

hate blows a bubble of despair into
hugeness world system universe and bang
-fear buries a tomorrow under woe
and up comes yesterday most green and young

pleasure and pain are merely surfaces
(one itself showing,itself hiding one)
life’s only and true value neither is
love makes the little thickness of the coin

comes here a man would have from madame death
nevertheless now and without winter spring?
she’ll spin that spirit her own fingers with
and give him nothing (if he should not sing)

how much more than enough for both of us
darling. And if i sing you are my voice