The Met is wrapping up the first week of Tobias Picker’s new opera, An American Tragedy. You may have heard about it. To be brief, the reviews in the papers and those overheard in the lobby have been decidedly mixed, rarely gushing or especially damning.
If you’re writing music without getting compensated, are you: (1) a victim; (2) an opportunist scab; (3) a smart gambler; or (4) all of the above?
Seriously, folks, don’t you think art-music is marginalized enough in this society, without a righteous diatribe from the inside against the whole family of keyboard instruments?
We love them, we hate them, we love to hate them. But we read them all the same.
If a piece of music relies on a lengthy explanation as the key to its enjoyment isn’t something out of whack?
What happens when you actually take the time to stop to listen to something without worrying about whether or not it conforms to your expectations?
Bloggers and iPods and Laptops, oh…yeah, yeah. We may have been able to function just fine before email, but seriously, who can remember?
Is a century-long fixation on numbers stifling our music?
Molly and Frank don’t agree on anything today, especially not what format they prefer for listening to music.