Thankful I am, two days before Thanksgiving, for things that sound unlike anything I’ve ever heard before.
Horatiu Radulescu (1942-2008), String Quartet No. 5 (“before the universe was born”); JACK Quartet, live, Los Angeles, 2011
Need a jolt?
Bela Bartok (1881-1945), String Quartet No. 5, excerpt (first mvt.)
FLUX quartet, live, 2013
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lagniappe
art beat: yesterday at the Art Institute of Chicago
Susan Charlesworth (1947-2013), Unidentified Man, Ontani Hotel, Los Angeles, 1980 (printed 2012), Stills (through January 4th)
never enough
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), String Quartet No. 14 (Op. 131, C-sharp minor; 1826); Takács Quartet, live
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lagniappe
musical thoughts
Opus 131 . . . is routinely described as Beethoven’s greatest achievement, even as the greatest work ever written. Stravinsky called it ‘perfect, inevitable, inalterable.’ It is a cosmic stream of consciousness in seven sharply contrasted movements, its free-associating structure giving the impression, in the best performances, of a collective improvisation. At the same time, it is underpinned by a developmental logic that surpasses in obsessiveness anything that came before. The first four notes of the otherworldly fugue with which the piece begins undergo continual permutations, some obvious and some subtle to the point of being conspiratorial. Whereas the Fifth Symphony hammers at its four-note motto in ways that any child can perceive, Opus 131 requires a lifetime of contemplation. (Schubert asked to hear it a few days before he died.)
—Alex Ross, “Deus Ex Musica,” New Yorker, 10/20/14
*****
lagniappe
art beat: yesterday at the Art Institute of Chicago
Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890), The Poet’s Garden, 1888
never enough
Is any form of music-making more intimate?
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), String Quartet No. 15, excerpt (1st movt.); Danish String Quartet, live (BBC studio), London, 2013
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lagniappe
art beat: yesterday at the Art Institute of Chicago (lunch hour)
René Magritte (1898-1967), The Lovers (1928) (Magritte: The Mystery of the Ordinary, 1926-1938, closes Monday)
Three-word review: Don’t miss this.
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937), String Quartet in F major (1903); Hagen Quartet, live, Austria (Salzburg), 2000
1st movt.
2nd movt.
3rd movt.
4th movt.
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lagniappe
reading table
Can I get used to it day after day
a little at a time while the tide keeps
coming in faster the waves get bigger
building on each other breaking records
this is not the world that I remember
then comes the day when I open the box
that I remember packing with such care
and there is the face that I had known well
in little pieces staring up at me
it is not mentioned on the front pages
but somewhere far back near the real estate
among the things that happen every day
to someone who now happens to be me
and what can I do and who can tell me
then there is what the doctor comes to say
endless patience will never be enough
the only hope is to be the daylight—W. S. Merwin, “Living With the News” (New Yorker, 7/28/14)
Why not begin the week with something beautiful?
Claude Debussy (1862-1918), String Quartet in G minor (1893); New England Conservatory Student Quartet (Minchae Kim & Harry Chang, violins; Heejin Chang, viola; Hsiao-Hsuan Huang, cello), live, Boston, 2014
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A big birthday shout-out to my son Alex (now twenty-seven), who’s enriched my life, musically and otherwise, more than he could ever know.
Let’s return to New York for another take on piano and string quartet.
Vijay Iyer (piano) and the Brentano String Quartet, from “Time, Place, Action” (V. Iyer), live, New York, 2014
*****
Happy (88th) birthday to my mother, who’s been dead almost two decades. When it comes to longevity, my genes are lousy. But, always, there’s today.
two takes
Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975), String Quartet No. 10, 3rd movt.
Fabian Almazan Trio with String Quartet, live, New York, 2012
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Borodin Quartet, recording
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lagniappe
random thoughts
If life weren’t so sad, it wouldn’t be life.
soundtrack to a dream
Morton Feldman (1926-1987), The Viola in My Life; João Pedro Delgado (viola), et al., live, Portugal, 2014
#1
#2
#3
#4
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lagniappe
reading table
The Suicide’s Room
by Wislawa Szymborska (1923-2012; MCOTD Hall-of-Famer), translated from Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare CavanaghI’ll bet you think the room was empty.
Wrong. There were three chairs with sturdy backs.
A lamp, good for fighting the dark.
A desk, and on the desk a wallet, some newspapers.
A carefree Buddha and a worried Christ.
Seven lucky elephants, a notebook in a drawer.
You think our addresses weren’t in it?No books, no pictures, no records, you guess?
Wrong. A comforting trumpet poised in black hands.
Saskia and her cordial little flower.
Joy the spark of gods.
Odysseus stretched on the shelf in life-giving sleep
after the labors of Book Five.
The moralists
with the golden syllables of their names
inscribed on finely tanned spines.
Next to them, the politicians braced their backs.No way out? But what about the door?
No prospects? The window had other views.
His glasses
lay on the windowsill.
And one fly buzzed—that is, was still alive.You think at least the note could tell us something.
But what if I say there was no note—
and he had so many friends, but all of us fit neatly
inside the empty envelope propped up against a cup.
music clip of the day 