Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Found on Sequenza 21

A Composer Makes Himself Perfectly Gliere

You can Telemann by where he likes to live. I just Toch a trip Orff into one of the Wilder areas Faure Wieck, and to be Verdi Franck, it nearly drove Menotti.

I know opinion Varese, but even Vivaldi urban noises, the Bizet traffic, De Falla engines, as well as knowing there are Mennin the streets Callas enoughto knock your Bloch off, I couldn’t resist the urge to Galuppi home early Satie, and I Haieff to say I Still prefer the Mitropoulos.

The Boyce were Sor that I had Gibbons up and succumbed to the Riegger of the Field so easily, but I don’t give a Schuetz.

I was practically Krein from my Severacs and Pains brought on by that brief time in the countryside! Even the sounds got my Dandrieu up; let me Liszt some of them: the Rorem of the wind, a constant Birtwhistle, the Menuhin of the Katz, the Lipatti-Patti-Glinka-Poulenc of the Reiner on the roof, theGluck-Gluck of the hens, and every morning a woodpecker or some Byrd Chopin holes in a Tree. My only company was a Thorne Busch,
a Partch of poison Ives, a Braun Babbit, and sometimes a Wolf, nothing Moore. For a Forrest Grainger it may be Fine - it may be the Katz Milhaud — but I could have died of
Borodin. A friend suggested my making this Tureck; “Abegg” his pardon, but I will never go Bach to those Gotterdaemmerung Hillis. They Suk!

No, I don’t care for the Ruggles life. I like a good Mehul - a little Suppe, some Szigeti, maybe some Salome at my local Taverner with a little lime Schubert after (even if they don’t always clear the Crumbs off the table). And I like to Locatelli while I’m Eaton Maderna at night. Is that asking for Egk in Meyerbeer?

Nono! So many people Berio themselves under a Holst of problems they know they can’t Handel. Their answer is too Offenbach to nature - into Haydn, it seems to me.
I Karajan a d’Indy life in the Berg for the most Paert. Maybe it isn’t Perle Bliss for everybody, but it’s

Godunov for me!


Blogger butch said...

Doug: Now let me see if I can figure out what the frick you are babbling about in Classicspeak. Some "friend" of yours decided that you needed to get away from the stressful job of being retired, or walking around town enjoying the urban natural sights, or trespassing on SRO property, or getting accolades from some other staff member, or doing some meditation and spiritual introspection while listening to the wind howl like a cat in heat, or the rain drip and drop like a leaky basement sink, where you had no option but just to live in the natural moment; no beer, no wine, no cheese, no tavern, no cover bands, no salami, no suffocating yet familiar hum of the great metropolis that whelped you, and burped you, and slapped your ass before you were old enough to change your name, or lose your hair, or retire? And a few other things that I could not decipher. And I gather the whole several day experience did not thrill you, or center you, or mellow you out. Rather is "sukked", and you returned to the fold, to the miasma of mankind, to the throngs and traffic and bad air, and sounds of commercial jets, and Lake Washington burping up refuse, and the rich over there on Mercer Island screaming that you and I are losers, and they could give a shit about our philosophies, prejudices, or methodology, or our creative energies, or your music, or my writing. Am I close to correct, sir?

Anway, Great long-haired Putz, I am still waiting to find out if you are receptive to my driving north up the valley of smog, from Sumner to Rainier Beach, so that we can have our 20 year reunion, and rediscover why we have been perfectly happy not socializing with each other for three decades, only letting the annual fuckyouverymuch suffice, or forgetaboutit. So I get it, I guess. You have been out of town, while I have been slaving away at my actual job, waiting for you to make the momentuous decision to consent to the face time. So what do you say, Dougie? Call me or email me or something.


6:35 PM  
Blogger Lane Savant said...

Come on up.
I didn't write that thing, geeez, i don't need to be Beethoven the head about it.
Check your e-mail.

8:34 AM  
Blogger butch said...

Many of us devoid of classical music history and sorely lacking in music appreciation did not key in on your title word "Found". And many of us had never heard of Sequenza 21. Maybe a prelude by yours truly would have prepared we readers for the piece. It is, however, I would submit, the kind of smart ass thing that you would have written, if you wanted to take a few hours and do so. It even is written, sort of, in your style of absurdist prose. So, boy is my face red for not realizing that you had simply posted the piece in from another source.

12:08 PM  
Blogger Robin said...

Yes, as Glen said, you are the type of smart ass who could get a Handel on something like this. Good thing he thought you did, so that I could know you didn't, except to Ristori it for us, for which I'm Granados.

3:07 PM  

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