The Legend Of Claude Frank:
At times when the daily gruel and brunt work of perfection-obsessed competition playing/travelling, piano playing may occasionally represent more of an Olympic sport than an artistic activity. You practice hard, you play etudes for 1st rounds, you keep travelling wherever another opportunity might be.
Then there's Claude Frank - an octogenarian version of Frank Sinatra in charm - gnarled arthritic hands, Steve Urkel pants and matching piano key suspenders, with a legend and a history glowing from an aura when he walks into a room.
Claude Frank playing Schubert's B-Flat Major Sonata is a uniquely sublime glimpse to a humanity that emulates perfection - unadulterated by sin, swimming in the divine.
Inspired simultaneously and erratically by the blog thoughts of both Stanley Lee and Ned Rorem.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2004
(88)
-
▼
August
(16)
- Wait long enough and things get better. After 2 we...
- I cannot write use any conjugated verbs because fo...
- For a lot of people, the media can seem like an ig...
- For those of you who are compulsive blog-readers, ...
- The Legend Of Claude Frank: At times when the dai...
- WTF. Even my mom is addicted to 24. charcoalj: it...
- As Jeff says, David is the funniest FOB that was e...
- This made me smile. Because I am queer. A father ...
- And this was one of the easier trips (includes wai...
- I'm fucking tired, I'm fucking grumpy, I'm fucking...
- All of my friends, save a few, have finally manage...
- ok check it out: Batman Begins, coming June of 20...
- I've devised a crude, fairly-accurate, and rudimen...
- Steve strikes back: drungken munk ee: you dig it....
- Octopus jokes: A guy walks into a bar with an oct...
- The life story of my 3-year roommate, Myung:I went...
-
▼
August
(16)
No comments:
Post a Comment