Mysteries Abysmal

Dillinger

I took this photo 72 years to the day after John Dillinger's execution in a Lincoln Park alleyway. Dillinger was fleeing from the police while catching a movie at the Biograph theater way back in July 22, 1934. You can see the telephone poll in both pictures and that is supposedly the exact spot of his death. Many Chicago history books claim that if you walk down the alley on July 22nd, you'll feel a "cold chill" and might see an apparition. So I gave it a go, but experienced none of those; I did, however, get a whiff of chorizo from the neighboring Fiesta Mexicana.

Cyber Classical resumes

After a month-and-a-half long hiatus, Gerry Fisher and I will return to the air waves this Sunday evening.  We're both anxious as hell to get back in the studio. Radio DePaul has undergone major renovations and new, far less apathetic management has taken over the station.  For Sunday, a playlist hasn't been set, but you'll probably hear some Lorraine Hunt Lieberson and Gyorgy Ligeti tributes.  The link to listen is always in the upper right hand corner of this webpage. 

If you're in the Chicago area (or not) and want to come on the show, let me know.  We'll spin your favorite discs and talk about them for a couple hours; or, if you want to publicize your upcoming musical events, we'll do that too.  There's so much potential with 3 hours and a mic. 

Hope you'll tune in. 

Shelf Candy No More

I had never read Moby Dick--my highschool English class let us watch the movie--so I picked it up and breezed through it in 11 days. Other than my Moncrieff and Kilmartin translation of Proust, I have not seen the English language so prodigiously handled. I have a couple criticisms and thoughts on the book:

1.) As far as epics go, I got little to no feel of durée; that is a sense of oneself (or the characters) flowing through time. The book is so intent on describing every technical and mundane aspect of the whaling industry, that I feel little has changed these characters from the time they stepped on the Pequod to the time they're drowned and devoured.

2.) We are thoroughly introduced to Captains Peleg and Bildad towards the beginning, only never to hear of them again. Why?

3.) Were Ishmael and Queequeg supposed to be gay?

Popt!

I've collected over the last year-and-a-half some quotations--some derisive, some not--from pop musicians directed at the c-music crowd.  It's too easy to poke fun at a music that's known for taking itself too seriously. Well last night I was reading about British composer Sir Harrison Birtwistle's reception of an Ivor Novello Award back in May.  In front of a largely pop-oriented crowd, Birtwistle accepted the award in a most unconventional way:

“Why is your music so effing loud? You must all be brain-dead. Maybe you are. I didn’t know so many clichés existed until the last half-hour. Have fun. Goodbye.”

Without seeing a video, it's hard to say if Birtwistle was clowning or sincere.  In my head, however, I see a crusty old man taking a dump on the youth who sells more records than he does.  Yet another case of the institute shouting from the ivory tower. 

Hey Chicago

Running through September 16, the Ravinia Festival will be showcasing various talent in the c-music world and elsewhere.  Emanuel Ax and Itzhak Perlman were here last week, as was Etta James. Tonight you'd be able to see the Emerson String Quartet play the last 3 quartets of Dmitri Shostakovich: some of my favorite music anywhere.  But leave your dancing shoes at home. 

Trouble is my business

Every now and then I'll stir the pot on various anonymous message boards; lately I've been reading what the British have to say on the BBC boards--cheap jabs at Yanks seem to be chic over there, yet 95% of all threads started are in some way related to the U.S. (hypocrite warning!).  And recently I registered at an African-American/urban website to see what I've been missing.  As an Iowa boy who likes baseball, rock and classical music, this whitey loves experiencing the other side.  But what's really entertaining are the Christian message boards.  There's a great Christian site that has every discussion topic from music to autism.  I checked out the "classical" forum and came away with some memorable material:

how do the rest of you deal with the fact that many composers led less-than-exemplary lives? Tchaikovsky, Barber, and Britten among others were homosexual, Schumann and Smetana had serious mental issues, Berlioz became addicted to opium, and as for Wagner...!

Here's a good one on coping with guilt:

I love their music. I have no problem listening to it. I didn't "know" about Tchaikovsky, and it'll probably be a while before I can listen to his music and enjoy it again without feeling a little weird...

This one's on tolerance, and is also my favorite:

A while ago I played Debussy's Syrinx, accepting the compliments while staying silent about the pagan mythology that inspired the music.

I am easily amused. 

Will you have a catch with me?

Around 1:30 a.m. last night and not at all sleepy, I went to my dresser and took out my baseball mitt.  I started packing the glove with my right hand and began tossing the ball into its web.  My left index finger poked out from the mitt while I pushed down the middle and ring-finger material down into the palm. It felt amazing. I've been watching baseball all summer and the urge to play competitively has become too much. On a whim I emailed my old Pony League coach, someone I hadn't spoken to in 10 years.  And I applied to several reporting jobs with Major League franchises knowing I'd never hear back.  Heck, I'll even go out of my way walking home just to step on the ballfield at Oz Park.  I feel like Wladyslaw Szpilman in the movie "The Pianist" when, hiding from the Nazis, he spots an upright piano in his room; not wanting to get caught, he mimics the motions of playing while the instrument sits there only to tease him. 

Mann & Mahler

To all you nerds who love Death in Venice and relish those Mahler symphonies, please read on:

"The conception of my story was influenced, in the early summer of 1911, by the news of Gustav Mahler's death. I had been fortunate to make his acquaintance previously, in Munich, and his burningly intense personality had made the strongest impression upon me. On the island of Brioni where I stayed at the time of his passing, I followed the bulletins about his last hours in the Viennese press, and gave to my protagonist not only the first name of the great musician but I also lent to him Mahler's mask when describing his appearance." --Thomas Mann

...now the physican description of Aschenbach in the great novella:

"Gustav von Aschenbach was slightly below medium height, dark-haired and clean shaven. His head seemed somewhat too large in proportion to his almost delicate figure. His hair was brushed straight back, thinning where he parted it, quite thick and strongly tinged with gray at the temples, framing a high forehead furrowed by scar-like ridges. The bridge of a pair of glasses with a gold frame and rimless lenses cut into the base of his sturdy, aristocratically shaped nose. His mouth was large, sometimes slack, sometimes becoming narrow and tense; his cheeks were thin and furrowed by wrinkles, his well-shaped chin showed a cleft. His head was usually one inclined to one side as if ailing; fateful experiences seemed to have passed over it, yet it had been his art which here had taken over that molding of the facial features which with others is the result of a hard and eventful life."

Mahler to a tea.

(thanks to Ernest M. Wolf)

Still fresh

Here's the great Crispin Glover in one of his most memorable scenes: 

Wolf-Ferrari

I'd make a bet that if you closed your eyes and picked out any disc by Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari, you'd become a fan. Everything I've heard from this Italian-German composer has been more than pleasurable.  Each movement of his chamber symphony, Op. 8, begins with gorgeous piano lines; the opening of the first movement should convert you if the rest won't.  The adagio is strangely familiar, and the vivace con spirito begins exactly as the scherzo from LvB's Ninth, but soon turns into a Brahmsian piano trio with flute voicing even I can love. My favorite Wolf-Ferrari work, however, is the bassoon concerto.  Say what? Yeah man, it's a whole lotta fun.  Register for free with Naxos and listen to some of the chamber symphony here; or spend $20, as I did, and listen to every Naxos disc in its entirery--best deal on earth. Other Wolf-Ferrari recommendations are welcome.