finding miracles | Richibi's Weblog

“Ebben? Ne andrò lontana” – Alfredo Catalani‏

“Diva II“

Erte

a fellow blogger, who’s been inspiring

me with an array of diverse composers,

some obscure to me, others personally

transformational, unearthed a piece of

music recently, on that composer’s

very birthday, that resounds in my

spirit still, through, for me, its signal

interpretation, as though it were very

yesterday

it was 1981, a French film, “Diva“, had

taken the world by storm, a precursor

to “Bladerunner“, the cultural

phenomenon, made the following year

like in “Bladerunner“, the music was

haunting

the antihero had stolen not only

the dress of the sublime soprano

he worshipped, but had also taped

surreptitiously one of her concerts,

something absolutely forbidden

corporations were avid to get a copy

of the tape, and the chase ensues

throughout the streets of Paris,

“The French Connection“, but on

Gallic drugs

the air is from Catalani‘s “La Wally“,

a fraught opera, with the heroine

eventually, and her beloved, dying,

separately however, in the same

avalanche, which he’d set off by

calling out, unaware of the sonic

consequences, her name

don’t ask

but at a moment of great despair, in

those very treacherous mountains,

after her father has thrown her out

of the house for wanting one of his

very enemies, the wrong man, she

sings an air that will break your

heart, “Ebben? Ne andrò lontana“,

“Well then? I’ll go far away“

Wilhelmina Higgins Fernandez

sings it in the movie, you’ll

quiver, thrill, at her clarity, her

purity, she’s a goddess, you’ll

see why Jules wanted her dress

but listen to Angela Gheorghiu,

as well, bring it up again a few

years later, live in Prague, from

her very “Là fra la neve bianca“,

“There somewhere in the white

snow“, I melted, after which I

became burnt toast, if you’ll

pardon those clashing, however

forcefully compelling, metaphors

nor would I ‘ve minded either her

dress

Richard

psst: thanks, Kurt

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“Casta diva” – Vincenzo Bellini‏

“Fire, Full Moon“ (1933)

Paul Klee

______

a few nights ago the moon was full,
I’d gone up to the roof, one floor up
from my apartment, to the deck there,
complete with pool, barbecue area,
lounge chairs, there was no one, just
me, it was one o’clock in the morning,
my witching hour

I’ve been going there, lately, the air

is fresh, crisp, it’s quiet, I can relax

there after a day of whatever

a perfect chair looks out onto the

entire city, the bay in the distance,

the harboured ships, Vancouver

Island even further during the day

I looked at the moon, it stared

nakedly back at me like a spotlight,

but clouds got in the way, bubbling,

boiling peremptorily westwards

before her, clouds on a mission

she monitored their march

imperviously, imperially, implacably,

like a goddess

I slunk beneath her gaze, stretched,

surrendered, slipped into lunar

things, love, loves, truth, beauty,

purpose, meaning, memories

through much of it, I closed my eyes,

aware always she was watching me,

but wrapped in my own transcendental

reveries

when I returned, I stretched again,

listened for the words, the notes,

of “Casta diva”, Bellini‘s anthem

to the moon

Norma is a Druid princess, she is

the priestess of the moon, near the

beginning of the opera she makes

her pitch, it’s her introduction, her

first aria, a cavatina, well done it is

unforgettable

chaste goddess, she sings, casta

diva, who casts silver light upon

these sacred trees, turn thy lovely

face upon us, unclouded and

unveiled

restrain, o goddess, these zealous

spirits, I prayed, shed upon earth

that peace that reigns in heaven

but I couldn’t get the notes right,

kept slipping into other arias,

though I brought to it my entire

attention, I was, only modestly,

therefore, there, Norma, also only

softly

later I found signature

performances on the Internet,

Joan Sutherland, a classic,

Renée Fleming in a superb

concert performance

shed upon earth that peace that

reigns in heaven, they also cry,

pray

Richard

psst: a cavatina is a short aria

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March 25, 2016

“Easter Oratorio”, BWV 249 – Johann Sebastian Bach‏

“Ascension of Jesus” (“La Santisima Trinidad“)

El Greco

______

for Martha and Chris, who still go to Easter

Mass, and whom Martha calls therefore

relics

and for Staf and Annemie, who live in

presently beleaguered Belgium, and

who must, at this time of distress,

need our prayers

having long ago lost track of the Christian

calendar, I only this week found out

Sunday ‘d be Easter, therefore Friday

Good Friday, not that this would much

change my daily routine, but it set me

perusing pertinent art, I knew I could

count on Bach for an oratorio, and sure

enough I found it

an oratorio, as I earlier explained, is an

opera without sets or costumes, usually

associated with religious services, but

Bach had one for every Sunday and

every Christian feast day

after an instrumental introduction,

reminiscent of Handel, I thought,

Bach’s “Easter Oratorio” slips into a

lovely adagio, notable for its exquisite

oboe obligato, where the innocence

and purity of that wind defines the

movement

the ceremonial pomp of the earlier

section then returns to include a

chorus expressing triumph, the

realization that the Lamb of God

has returned

but soon enough, Mary, the soprano

of a quartet of singers, each of the

four singing according to their own –

alto, Mary Magdalene, tenor, Simon

Peter, bass, John the Evangelist –

voices, and accompanied by an

utterly transcendental transverse

flute, sings

“My soul, the spice that embalms

you shall no longer be myrrh. Only

a crown of laurels can soothe your

anxious longing.”

and knocks your socks off

this week at market, stuffing my

organic red pepper and a bag of

handcrafted chips, barbecued,

designer, into my bag, at their

express counter, collecting my

coins, my receipt, my change

purse, my wallet, and last but not

least, of course, my self, I sensed

something of mine drop, looked

dutifully around, could find

nothing, wondered, and made to

excuse me, sir, I heard behind me,

you dropped something

a little boy, an urchin, blond hair,

blue eyes, right out of Charles

Dickens, I thought, eight maybe,

nine, held out a quarter, apparently

mine

why thank you, I replied, enchanted

and you know what, I asked, I’m

going to give this back to you, and

put the quarter back into his hand

the last time I did something like

that, I saw an angel, I remembered,

but that’s another story

thank you, he said back, gleaming

with the maturity of his interaction,

though I’m not sure he wasn’t

himself in fact also a very angel

later I thought I should’ve sent him

for a crème brûlée, a piece of carrot

cake, a pastry, or something, and

berated myself for the paucity of

my recompense

but there is a link to Easter in my

tale, the idea of hope, revival,

regeneration, in the possibility of

goodness reentering the world, a

task inherited by the children, and

whom we must not lead astray

apart from its more traditional

associations, for perhaps the less

observant, people of other creeds

and faiths, if Easter means anything

still, or has ever, it is about just that,

hope, revival, regeneration, nor must

we ourselves betray those ideals

happy Easter

Richard

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February 28, 2016

Bassoon Sonata, opus 168 – Camille Saint-Saëns

“Photo; This is the Color of My Dreams“ (1925)

Joan Miró

______

for my sister

a competition program that pits
youngsters against each other,
but on a variety of instruments,
with some operatic voice, has
riveted us to our sets on Friday
evenings, seven o’clock local
time throughout Canada

out of the province of Quebec,
however, and therefore in
French

“Virtuose“ lives up to its name
with extraordinary performances
from mere children, and some
adolescents, you can catch all of
the past episodes, and performers,
on their website

last week a young man delighted
us with a movement from a bassoon
sonata, an unlikely instrument, of
Saint-Saëns, his opus 168

my sister expressed surprise,
un basson, she marvelled

quickly I sought out, of course, the
full composition, it’s otherwise for
me like reading one chapter only
out of a book

it’s a short piece, no longer the
grand statements of the earlier
Romantic Period, but a series of
pastiches, fleeting impressions,
impromptu ruminations rather
than extended dissertations,
something like what I’m doing
here with these texts

you’ll recognize also a similar
approach in other composers of
the period, Debussy especially,
but too Satie, Ravel, Poulenc to
name only a few, the speed of
the new century precluded
extended musical peregrinations,
you’ll remark on the dearth of
symphonies, concertos,
composed during this epoch

the composition is in G major, my
cleaning lady had come over, was
already busy in an adjoining room
at the time, I was nearing the
end of the first movement, the
allegro moderato, a wistful
evocation of spring, I thought,
an innocent, fragile blossom
unfurling its delicate petals
with unaffected grace and
unconscious poetry

the final note sounded, the
bassoonist removed his lips from
the tube, but the note kept on
playing, coming, as I soon
understood, not from the video I
was watching, but from the other
room, Jo had turned on the
vacuum cleaner

o my god/dess, I uttered, hurried
over to where she was, subdued
my enthusiasm in order not to
unduly rattle her, as I brimmed
with my scintillating insight

your vacuum cleaner vacuums in
G, I gushed when she turned to
acknowledge me, it continued the
last note, I explained, of the first
movement of my sonata, Saint-
Saëns’ – say that three times with
a lisp, I interjected – until you
turned your vacuum cleaner off,
which is also, I pointed out, a
wind instrument

her delight was modest compared
to mine, however ever nevertheless
congenial, and quickly she returned
to her duties

I went back tickled pink to my
monitor and the following
movement, the sprightly and equally
enchanting allegro scherzando

Richard

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September 1, 2015

what’s happening in Poland

“The Kiss“ (1907-08)

Gustav Klimt

_______

last night, most unexpectedly,
someone I know sent me this, I
wondered if it was because of
the music, the message, or the
performance, consequently I
assumed everything

Mateusz Ziółko won the Voice
of Poland contest in 2013, it’s
fun, despite the language
barrier – the adjudication being
all in Polish – to watch also,
during the evaluation, the judge
in blue fall apart, come entirely
undone, be unabashedly smitten,
from nearly the very first note of
this riveting audition, then spend
the rest of the show trying to get
herself back together again

much as I did, in fact, without
a camera

quiver too, enjoy

Richard

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August 26, 2015

“Let’s Face the Music and Dance”‏

“Hot Jazz“ (1940)

Frank Kline

_______

having watched a superb interpretation
of this classic Nat King Cole number on
“So You Think You Can Dance” recently,
a show I havent missed since it started,
I went looking for a performance of the
song I could sink my teeth into, and
Fred and Ginger, however wonderful,
could not give me the immediacy I was
intent on discovering, I needed words,
not action, “Let’s Face the Music and
Dance” from the heart

though I’d heard of Diana Krall, I hadn’t
anywhere yet identified her, if ever I’d
even heard her

she took my breath away, knocked my
socks off, I want to go to Rio, where
she sang this song, just click

once I’d heard this piece on free Internet
video, I ran, didn’t just walk, albeit on the
comfort of my own sofa, to iTunes and
bought the whole show for what turned
out to be essentially a song, $4.99
Canadian, wow

turned out I could’ve got it for free as
well right there by running instead to
Google, had I not been so impetuous,
smitten

“Live in Rio“ is a revelation, and I don’t
even like jazz, but I liked this show
enough to make me want to fly to Rio,
make my own Bossa Nova, maybe even
meet my own Ipaneman

though Diana Krall, incidentally lives
right here in Vancouver, she says

note, in passing, the connections to
Classical music, you’ll want to count
tenuti, for instance, and rubati,
accelerandi and rallentandi, while
you’re at it

note also the Classical imperatives,
tonality, tempo, and repetition, which,
you’ll find, haven’t much changed in
the 21st Century, though rhythm is a
lot more fluid, flexible, now, not so
rigid

the group is a variation on the string
quartet, now comprising double bass,
guitar, percussion, and piano, with
voice thrown in

an orchestral back up makes us ready
for a concerto, where here we have a
set of independent pieces held
together, however solidly, by mere
mood

and, of course, Diana Krall’s vocal
and interpretive magic

listen, be smitten

Richard

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August 23, 2015

“Il Silenzio” – Nini Rosso‏

the Yser Memorial

Nieuwpoort, Holland

___________

the year before last when my mom and I
were in Belgium, we stayed at a wonderful
bed and breakfast, Ter Brugge, in a place
called Jabbeke, a village near Bruges, our
intended sightseeing destination, cause
I’d read in the prospectus that they served
fresh eggs from their very own chickens in
the morning, and where there turned out to
be fresh fruit also from their very own
orchards

not to mention the hearty, convivial
welcome in the manner of the countryside –
the restaurant across the street, five stars
nevertheless, however improbable in so
nestled and remote an area, even let us
bring back cash instead of the unaccepted
credit card we were proffering, and wouldn’t
accept a compensatory tip when the next
day I returned to oblige

try that in your own urban back yard

more companionable still were our hosts,
Staf and Annemie, who’d faultlessly drive
us several kilometres away to the bus stop
every morning to the city, and pick us up
across the street there every night, so
we could spend, without impracticality,
each day in Bruges

and every morning we’d meet up with a
couple from England as we waited, who
were staying in a trailer park nearby,
and who’d trek to Ypres by bus to honour
their countrymen who’d died there

somehow we never thought, my mom
and I, of going to either Ypres or
Passchendaele, despite our, especially
her, particular interest

we learned from them that every day,
every day, however improbably, since
the end of the First World War, there is
a commemoration to honour the fallen
soldiers

today I learned that in a cemetery near
Maastricht in Holland, every single fallen
soldier there has been adopted by a family
who’ve been minding their graves ever
since

makes one wonder about our own
beloved

on Liberation Day each year, May 5th,
throughout Holland, there is a formal
commemoration at the end of which,
since 1965 when it was commissioned,
someone plays “Il Silenzio“

listen

Richard

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July 19, 2015

Grieg, Piano Concerto in A minor‏

Arthur Rubinstein

_________

inspired by a favoured blogger of
mine who’d highlighted an obscure
composer who’d written an
unforgettable cultural ditty we’d
all heard but never further thought
of, Hugo Alfvén, I was reminded of
another Scandinavian giant, Grieg

stop, watch, don’t just listen, to
Arthur Rubinstein make history
with Grieg’s A minor Piano
Concerto, he is the very
representation of all of the
proprieties of a late 19th-Century
aesthetic, noble, aristocratic,
austere, yet authentic, capable,
firm

André Previn’s orchestral
accompaniment is unobtrusive,
and disappears, for all intents
and purposes, behind the sheer
dedication, conviction, of the
true maestro, the veritable muse,
the instigator, Arthur Rubinstein,
watch him leave all of them behind
in flurries of electrified inspiration

this performance bursts beyond
all literal expectations, expect
nothing short of transcendence

Richard

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July 8, 2015

at the XVth International Tchaikovsky Competition – Maria Mazo, ll‏

a still from the movie “Elvira Madigan”

________________

there’s been a second round of
recitals, enough to make you
weary of sonatas, unless you’re
stalwart, devoted, primed

the prizes have been awarded,
the results posted at the site,
so that any mystery, excitement,
has been chilled, had you been
in any way excited about your
choices

they certainly rained on my
parade

by now most of my favourites
have gone down, others have
been perfunctory, to my mind,
but three, which surely I’ll
cover, but presently let me
start with Maria Mazo, a
wonder, who’d wowed me
earlier with her
transcendental Beethoven

here, with an orchestra, she
takes on a monument of the
20th Century, Mozart’s 21st
Piano Concerto, better known
since the mid-20th Century as
the theme to the movie,
“Elvira Madigan“, a forgotten
film now, however enchanting,
but this is where a generation
learned about Mozart

Maria Mazo sets the new
standard here, this is how
you’ll hear this concerto from
now on, it is magical, it is
mystical, it is extraordinary,
it’s right up there with the
greatest, who are presently
handing over to her our
musical reins

thank you, Mitsuko Uchida,
with the greatest admiration

strangely Maria Mazo didn’t
even place

who could ‘a’ ever thunk it

Richard

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July 4, 2015

at the XVth International Tchaikovsky Competition – Maria Mazo

“L’oiseau de feu“ (1910)

Leon Bakst

________

after playing Scriabin’s 4th Sonata,
in F# major, opus 30, a passionate
but poised performance of a work
dated 1903, Ravel maybe, or
Debussy, at first I thought, though
neither had ever been so furious in
my recollection, then a transcription
for piano of the last movements of
Stravinsky’s “Firebird”, a work as
obstreperous as the Scriabin, and
as revolutionary, relentless and
brash, much more audacity than
diplomacy however ultimately
treasured universally and celebrated,
Maria Mazo undertakes no less than
the mightiest of the mighty, gasp,
Beethoven’s “Hammerklavier”

she takes on the first two movements
at something of a clip, not an
unwelcome occurence so long as you
have the fingers for it, which on the
strength of her earlier numbers I
deemed she would, and did, which
only added to the gravitas of her then
largo, which thereby became
resplendent, luminous, utterly and
verily, indeed, transcendental, note
the cherubs twittering halfway
through, just before Beethoven
enters the portals of very Heaven
and is transformed into radiance and
incandescent light before your
very astonished sensibilities

Maria Mazo should win

Richard

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Richibi’s Weblog

Category: finding miracles

June 23, 2016

“Ebben? Ne andrò lontana” – Alfredo Catalani‏

April 23, 2016

“Casta diva” – Vincenzo Bellini‏

March 25, 2016

“Easter Oratorio”, BWV 249 – Johann Sebastian Bach‏

February 28, 2016

Bassoon Sonata, opus 168 – Camille Saint-Saëns

September 1, 2015

what’s happening in Poland

August 26, 2015

“Let’s Face the Music and Dance”‏

August 23, 2015

“Il Silenzio” – Nini Rosso‏

July 19, 2015

Grieg, Piano Concerto in A minor‏

July 8, 2015

at the XVth International Tchaikovsky Competition – Maria Mazo, ll‏

July 4, 2015

at the XVth International Tchaikovsky Competition – Maria Mazo