Norm Lebrecchht's next book?

Apparently, classical music isn't the only form that's dying.

Searching for "WCRB Playlists"

Lately, since WCRB switched from 102.5 to 99.5, I've been getting a lot of hits from people searching for CRB playlists. (The website, which used to have that information, is under construction for some reason.)

I find that quite odd; CRB is the station that tells you the names of all the pieces at the end of the hourlong blocks of classical music, after all.

Independent Music

I'll never understand why the centerpiece of the Pops [Esplanade] 4th of July Celebration is a piece of Russian propaganda music.

The Early Music Aristocrats

Somebody referred to this new music joke at one of the Sequenza21 discussions, and I've been very fascinated it.

So, here it is, re-fashioned from new music to the HIP crowd:

-I have to tell you about this Beethoven program I read about last week. It was really something.
-What happened?
-It was "Beethoven as he sounded to himself." They opened with the Emperor concerto, on period instruments, including a restored piano from Vienna that Beethoven himself once played on. It was really lovely, with a very interesting sound, at first, but then it started to get a little wierd. There were large speakers, though, which were playing this quiet, low buzzing sound that gradually got louder and louder. Meanwhile, as the piece progressed, ushers walked around from seat to seat with guns. They were only firing blanks, but right at people's ears, several times, until they lost pretty much all of their hearing. People wouldn't have realized that the concerto was over and that the 9th symphony had begun without the choir filing on-stage. By the time the glorious ode to joy wrapped up, everybody in the hall was totally deaf. Have you heard about it?
-Heard about it? I programmed it!

The key to this joke is that every telling is very different, so have at it!

What REALLY Happened to Levine?

It's old news now that James Levine had season-ending rotator cuff surgery. The season in question, though, was only the Met season. As reported in the Glob:

Meanwhile, the managing director of the Boston Symphony, Mark Volpe, said Levine's doctor's expect the maestro to fully recovered in time for his next scheduled appearance with the BSO -- the July 7 opening of the Tanglewood season in Lenox.

(Though, let's put things in perspective: while I'm sure the people of New York are disappointed to miss out on Levine's conducting, at least his was less severe than than the most famous conducting accident in history.)

Last month I wrote about how Boston and New York were sharing Levine. But maybe someone in Boston doesn't want to share. Maybe it was specifically calculated to down Levine from the end of his share of the BSO winter season through the start of Tanglewood. Maybe it wasn't an accident.

We'll never know.

Christmas Music at Tower Records

I wonder how sales of El Niño would be impacted if it were re-packaged as "A Minimalist Christmas."

Miracle of the Modern Age

I have to admit: I was much happier before I found out I could acquire a theremin so easily.

(Though why blow hundreds when you could blow thousands?)

Loud and Ruffled

It's coming. Next month, the new movie "Tristan and Isold(e)" opens in the US. (Watch the trailer at here.)

It's never too early to starting raising these questions:

Where is Morholt? Even though he isn't around for long, he is vital to the story. If Tristan doesn't kill Isold(e)'s kin, and she doesn't accordingly hate him, then why do you need the potion? Does that mean we don't get to meet Tantris? Where is Isold(e) of the White Hands?

The movie's music was composed by Anne Dudley. What's next for her? A movie about Don Juan? An adaptation of Henri Murger's Scenes from the Bohemian Life? ETA Hoffman?

Why spell Isolde the German way if you're going to pronounce it the English way? (Though, in this day and age, maybe I should just be relieved she isn't iSolde.)


The movie's tagline gives reason to reflect. "Before there were Romeo and Juliet," it tells us. For people interested in opera or medieval literature, it's sometimes hard to remember how little currency the story actually has these days. Look at Dante's description in Canto V (in Allen Mandelbaum's translation):

"She is Semiramis, of whom we read
that she was Ninus' wife and his successor:
she held the land the Sultan now commands.
That other spirit [i.e., Dido] killed herself for love,
and she betrayed the ashes of Sychaeus;
the wanton Cleopatra follows next.
See Helen, for whose sake so many years
of evil had to pass; see the great Achilles,
who finally met love--in his battle.
See Paris, Tristan..."
V.58-67

This who's-who of classical lovers has just one person whose legend is remotely Dante's contemporary: of course, it's our boy Tristan. Would a modern-day Dante, when thinking of famous lovers, put Tristan high on the list? Probably not. On the other hand, it's impossible not to know about Romeo and Juliet. (Look up both Tristan and Romeo in the dictionary. Once Tristan held the same general meaning that Romeo now occupies.)

I suppose that's the one good thing this movie can do: it can put Tristan back on the map, so to speak. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but perhaps a few people out there will decide to pick up a copy of Gottfried von Strassburg or a record of Wagner's opera.



By way of epilogue: I wonder how I would have reacted had I been in Munich in the summer of 1865. Would I be asking questions about where Isolde of the White Hands was still? I'd like to think that I would have been enchanted by the Tristan chord and all its delights and ambiguities, but I suppose it's impossible to say.