lately the term 'russian' has been bandied about me as a catch-all adjective. 'oh, that's so russian. please, make that russian', people would say with equal amounts of vagueness and conviction as to the word's meaning. the meaning began to click, somewhat, when i heard a very russian performance of gershwin's 'rhapsody in blue', the iconic piece about ambulating through new york city. what was so russian about it? the syncopation was present, but not at all jazzy. each note was struck with measured rigor. the most surprising midtones were emphasized, bringing out notes and flavors, street corners and alleyways that never before existed in the skyline of the melody. the entire piece felt full even when quiet, and always stopped short of hitting a dramatic high or low due to the force that reigned throughout. move over, dorothy, because we're not in new york city anymore. this is not your mother's leonard bernstein directs the new york phil, to which you've faithfully listened since age 11. it was like watching the planes and colors of your favorite kandinsky painting get rearranged into something strange and striking. bravo.
sometimes (actually, all of the time) i wish i had more seriously pursued music.
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About Me
- carola rola
- I unofficially take photographs and charm people for a living. Officially, I received a B.F.A. from Cornell University, and am now on the West Coast making websites, planting gardens, and damning the man. Be my friend at carol[dot]why[dot]zou[at]gmail[dot]com.
the only decent Russian is a white one. on the rocks. or blended, I suppose I could go either way.
ReplyDeletemilk combined with other liquids gives me the absolute willies.
ReplyDeletei prefer whiskey.