Song of a Reformed Headhunter

We heard our last Orpheus Chamber Orchestra concert last night, at Carnegie. The program had a hodge-podge feel to it: Franz Shreker's Scherzo for Strings, Beethoven's Romance No. 2 in F major for Violin and Orchestra, Henry Vieuxtemps's Violin Concerto No. 5 in A minor and Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in G minor. The new commission, Alex Mincek's Pendulum IX: "Machina/Humana," written in a modernist idiom and in homage to Monteverdi's L'Orfeo , amplified the discord. The highlight of the concert, the Munich-born Viviane Hagner playing Vieuxtemps, was a superb memory to set alongside that of Gil Shaham playing with the orchestra at our first concert. Hagner was not a flashy player; she was, instead, deeply absorbing and utterly compelling. So was the orchestra accompanying her with passionate attention. The performance was in sharp contrast with the blandly professional rendition of Beethoven's Romance No. 2. Neither soloist nor orchestra seemed ...

TLS March 23 2012 from Randall Anderson's review of Franco Mormando's Bernini: His life and his Rome : The explosive exuberance of the Baroque signalled the evolution of Renaissance and Mannerist styles, and through Bernini achieved its greatest heights. For Benedetto Croce, Baroque decadence produced an art of bad taste ( cattivo gusto artistico ), but for Luigi Barzini, Jr it embodied something more liberating: "Baroque is when you can draw a straight line, but you prefer to draw a curve". The "plastic abundance", corporeality and expansive force identified by Wylie Sypher as hallmarks of Baroque style appear in surplus with Bernini, from his ecstatic St. Teresa, afloat on her own garments as much as buoyed by the Holy Spirit, to the yards of fabric, inflated by invisible winds, billowing around his busts of Francesco d'Este and Louis XIV. *** From Commentary "Meaning in the margins: Victoria Lady Welby and significs" by John E. Jose...

Just enjoyed an evening of odd, wonderful Gertrude Stein. Singing Stein is Encompass New Opera Theatre's contribution to Gertrude's Paris Festival at Symphony Space. The program note, written by Encompass Artistic Director Nancy Rhodes, describes the background and the works: Tonight you will see Virgil Thomson's Capital Capitals , the first musical stage piece he set to Stein's words in 1927. Thomson turned the text that Stein wrote in 1923 using demographic field reports and statistics into a competitive musical conversation, a joust for four gentlemen.... During World War I, Gertrude drove an ambulance in the South of France, and became intrigued with the sunny cities of Aix-en-Provence, Arles, Avignon and Les Baux. In Capital Capitals , she fashioned a garrulous discussion among four men who represent those cities. Capturing her wit, Thomson employs a panoply of rhythmic variety, using some of his Missouri plainchant, C majorish ditties, and undulant Spanish rh...

Complete first draft. Decided yesterday to take away the section headings. The Dream Child —so what will Baby/be tomorrow?—             Antonia Pozzi, “The Dreamed Life” Who speaks to me speaks to a stir— in air, a ripple of veil—perhaps— speaking caused the ripple, hard to tell. But body is sensed— joy—as possibility, everything small but perfect, toes, lips capable of taking ravishment—giving. They walk the woods as others make love, the man who will be sent away to Rome, the girl who will lean back on grass— trembling until the slight wind drops. These children take up so much space. They tug, they push. They stride ahead, expecting the world to give way. Even when they tumble, they cover ground. I watch behind the elm and step out— a shadow. Only when I open my throat— to call, to hiss— do I occupy a place, as when...

The Dream Child  —so what will Baby/be tomorrow?—      Antonia Pozzi, “The Dreamed Life” The Dream Child Who speaks to me speaks to a stir— in air, a ripple of veil—perhaps— speaking caused the ripple, hard to tell. But body is sensed— joy—as possibility, everything small but perfect, toes, lips capable of taking ravishment—giving. They walk the woods as others make love, the man who will be sent away to Rome, the girl who will lean back on grass— trembling until the slight wind drops. The Skylark These children take up so much space. They tug, they push. They stride ahead, expecting the world to give way. Even when they tumble, they cover ground. I watch behind the elm and step out— a shadow. Only when I open my throat— to call, to hiss— do I occupy a place, as when the sound of the sea takes up the room of a shell, or when sky is skylark. Sip In their rage, the dead break things—soup bowls,...

The Dream Child  —so what will Baby/be tomorrow?—      Antonia Pozzi, “The Dreamed Life” Who speaks to me speaks to a stir— in air, a ripple of veil—perhaps— speaking caused the ripple, hard to tell. But body is sensed— joy—as possibility, everything small but perfect, toes, lips capable of taking ravishment—giving. They walk the woods as others make love, the man who will be sent away to Rome, the girl who will lean back on grass— trembling until the slight wind drops.

Inferior Education  Today, for the first time, you struck your mother on the cheek.      Yosano Akiko, “Auguste’s Single Strike” Three things I was not taught as a child but wish: to strike my mother on the cheek to contradict my teacher in public to throw rocks at cops. Now I am an indifferent citizen, keep-at-home critic, afraid to go up against someone smarter. I shout at my mother when she doesn’t come to the point, striking her with words.