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Had a really pleasant evening in the Big City with Cassandra and Allan, attending one of DeeDee's frequent Carnegie Hall performances. For whatever reason, DeeDee's chorus was performing a rather uninspired light opera called Song of Norway.
Song of Norway is loosely based on the life of the composer Edvard Grieg. Unfortunately, Edvard Grieg led a singularly dull life. He was an interesting composer, though.
You wouldn't know that from sitting through a performance of Song of Norway.
Sometime in the mid 19th century, classical music broke with the old mathematical formulas and became primarily concerned with chord sequences that evoke emotion. This trend culminates around the beginning of the 20th century with musical impressionists like Debussy and Ravel and of course, the mad Russians like Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korska, after which classical music as we know it became movie background music and mostly irrelevant.
Grieg was an important figure in that movement. He incorporated motifs from Norwegian folk songs into his orchestral arrangements. Folk songs seldom focus on endless permutations and combinations of notes.
Song of Norway, the playbill tells us, was last performed 40 years ago. One hopes it will never be performed again. It was truly that awful.
But it was really fun sitting in Carnegie Hall, chatting with Clark and Cassandra and Allan, mingling with other members of the audience afterwards and eavesdropping on excited conversations: My agent has me up for [Your Show I Never Heard of Goes Here].
Afterwards we retired to an Italian restaurant that served very good food joined by DeeDee's pretty and interesting pal Cindy. Of course, I never would have been able to pay for dinner at that Italian restaurant. Allan very kindly subsidized me.
I had a really good Fegato alla Veneziana.
And I thought: This is really why one needs money. Because it's so much fun to go out to dinner with pals and eat good food and chat and feel like the kings and queens of the planet!
I even enjoyed the midnight ride on public transit back to Lawn Guyland, the half hour sojourn in the Jamaica terminal hub watching all the night zombies floating about.
Went to sleep and dreamed the entire score of Tosca.
Woke up bawling like a baby because Puccini always has that effect on me.
Very strange how a strutting Tuscan peacock, a card carrying member of Mussolini's Fascist party in his declining years, could compose music of such astonishing emotional tenderness, romance, remorse and longing for redemption crammed into eight minor notes.
Humans! Don't underestimate them.
Song of Norway is loosely based on the life of the composer Edvard Grieg. Unfortunately, Edvard Grieg led a singularly dull life. He was an interesting composer, though.
You wouldn't know that from sitting through a performance of Song of Norway.
Sometime in the mid 19th century, classical music broke with the old mathematical formulas and became primarily concerned with chord sequences that evoke emotion. This trend culminates around the beginning of the 20th century with musical impressionists like Debussy and Ravel and of course, the mad Russians like Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korska, after which classical music as we know it became movie background music and mostly irrelevant.
Grieg was an important figure in that movement. He incorporated motifs from Norwegian folk songs into his orchestral arrangements. Folk songs seldom focus on endless permutations and combinations of notes.
Song of Norway, the playbill tells us, was last performed 40 years ago. One hopes it will never be performed again. It was truly that awful.
But it was really fun sitting in Carnegie Hall, chatting with Clark and Cassandra and Allan, mingling with other members of the audience afterwards and eavesdropping on excited conversations: My agent has me up for [Your Show I Never Heard of Goes Here].
Afterwards we retired to an Italian restaurant that served very good food joined by DeeDee's pretty and interesting pal Cindy. Of course, I never would have been able to pay for dinner at that Italian restaurant. Allan very kindly subsidized me.
I had a really good Fegato alla Veneziana.
And I thought: This is really why one needs money. Because it's so much fun to go out to dinner with pals and eat good food and chat and feel like the kings and queens of the planet!
I even enjoyed the midnight ride on public transit back to Lawn Guyland, the half hour sojourn in the Jamaica terminal hub watching all the night zombies floating about.
Went to sleep and dreamed the entire score of Tosca.
Woke up bawling like a baby because Puccini always has that effect on me.
Very strange how a strutting Tuscan peacock, a card carrying member of Mussolini's Fascist party in his declining years, could compose music of such astonishing emotional tenderness, romance, remorse and longing for redemption crammed into eight minor notes.
Humans! Don't underestimate them.
