Monday, June 29, 2009

Man in The Miror


If there is a song which captures the freshness this artist has given to the world of pop music Man in the Mirror is one : it was in 1988 at the Grammy Awards with a Gospel Choir.

Netherlands: Accession to 1970 UNESCO Treaty to Protect Cultural Objects

Montreal's Jazz Festival : Complete Program

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Lake of Stew : The Armadillo Song



A contry folk song by Lake of Stew a group from Montreal

If you like this corn field music ambiance you will also enjoy the very old Carter Family :
The original group consisted of Alvin Pleasant "A.P." Delaney Carter (1891-1960), his wife Sara Dougherty Carter (1898-1979), and his sister-in-law Maybelle Addington Carter (1909-1978). Maybelle was married to A.P.'s brother Ezra (Eck) Carter and was also Sara's first cousin. All three were born and raised in southwestern Virginia, where they were immersed in the tight harmonies of mountain gospel music and shape note singing. Maybelle's distinctive and innovative guitar playing style became a hallmark of the group.
The Carter Family made their first recordings on August 2, 1927. A.P. had convinced Sara and Maybelle the day before to make the journey from Maces Spring, Virginia, to Bristol, Tennessee, to audition for record producer Ralph Peer, who was seeking new talents for the relatively embryonic recording industry. They received $50 for each song they recorded.

In the fall of 1927, the Victor recording company released a double-sided 78 rpm record of the group performing "Wandering Boy" and "Poor Orphan Child". In 1928, another record was released with "The Storms Are on the Ocean" and "Single Girl, Married Girl". This record became very popular.
On May 27, 1928, Peer had the group travel to Camden, New Jersey, where they recorded many of what would become their signature songs, including:

* "Meet me by the Moonlight Alone";
* "Keep on the Sunny Side";

The References From the Carter Family are from Wikipedia : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carter_Family

Listen to : "Keep on the Sunny Side"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbmQQ4RfzVE

Woodpigeon : Oberkampf



Also, listen to this song, more indie folk oriented :

Woodpigeon - Piano Pieces for Adult Beginners with Lyrics

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C639SnO-W2c&feature=related

Birds of a Feather


Calgary folk collective Woodpigeon prepares for takeoff
Calgary indie band Woodpigeon recently released their sophomore album, Treasury Library Canada c/w Houndstooth Europa. Band members include, from left, Mikey "Blades" Gratton, Daren Powell, Kenna Burima, Foon Yap, Annalea Sordi-McClure, Aimee-Jo Benoit, Mark Hamilton and Peter Moersch. (Boompa)

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Poetry : Robert Frost - The Road Not Taken

Poetry : Margaret Atwood reads "Morning In The Burned House"



To learn more about Margaret Atwood :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margaret_Atwood

Poetry : The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock - T.S. Eliot


The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock


S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.


LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go 35
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare 45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress 65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, 90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, 100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . . 110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, 115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old … 120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me. 125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

To learn more about Thomas Stearns Eliot :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot

Patricia Cronin

Patricia Cronin’s watercolor homage to Harriet Hosmer’s missing 1868 sculpture “Queen of Naples,” at the Brooklyn Museum.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Shakespeare : Henry V.'s Speech before the 'Battle, of Agincourt

Henry V, William Shakespeare, SCENE III. The English camp.

KING HENRY V
... No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Re-enter SALISBURY

SALISBURY

My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battles set,
And will with all expedience charge on us.

KING HENRY V

All things are ready, if our minds be so.

WESTMORELAND

Perish the man whose mind is backward now!

KING HENRY V

Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?

WESTMORELAND

God's will! my liege, would you and I alone,
Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

KING HENRY V

Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;
Which likes me better than to wish us one.
You know your places: God be with you all!

Tucket. Enter MONTJOY

MONTJOY

Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow:
For certainly thou art so near the gulf,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
Thy followers of repentance; that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
Must lie and fester.

KING HENRY V

Who hath sent thee now?

MONTJOY

The Constable of France.

KING HENRY V

I pray thee, bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall no doubt
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day's work:
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet them,
And draw their honours reeking up to heaven;
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then abounding valour in our English,
That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.
Let me speak proudly: tell the constable
We are but warriors for the working-day;
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There's not a piece of feather in our host--
Good argument, I hope, we will not fly--
And time hath worn us into slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads
And turn them out of service. If they do this,--
As, if God please, they shall,--my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald:
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.

MONTJOY

I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.

Exit

KING HENRY V

I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.

Enter YORK

YORK

My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward.

KING HENRY V

Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away:
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!

Exeunt

Hey Joe : Jimi Hendrix and the Jimi Hendrix Experience



The Jimi Hendrix Experience :

Lead guitarist and singer : Jimi Hendrix, USA
Bassist Noel Redding, England
Drummer Mitch Mitchell, England

To learn more about Jimi Hendrix :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jimi_Hendrix

Smetana : Ma Vlast,, Vltava(Moldau) : Allegro comodo non agitato


Bedrich Smetana
Má Vlast / My Country / Mein Vateriand / Ma Patrie : Part II Vltava (Moidau) Allegro comodo non agitato :

Details of the piece :

- The first source of the Moidau
- The second source - Woods; Hunt
- L'istesso tempo me moderato (Peasant Wedding)
- L'istesso tempo (Moonlight; Nymphs' Roundelay)
- Tempo I (Rapids of St. John) -
- Più moto (The Moidau flows broadly onward; Vysehrad)

To learn more about Vltava (Moidau) :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%A1_vlast#Vltava

To learn more about Bedrich Smetana (1824 - 1884) :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bed%C5%99ich_Smetana

Art, All Night Long

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Nekt wikuhpon ehpit : On Saturday, June 20 At The Beaverbrook Art Gallery

Nekt wikuhpon ehpit (Once there lived a woman ...) : The Painting, Poetry and Politics of Shirley Bear, a major exhibition devoted to the life's work of senior New Brunswick artist Shirley Bear.

Multi-Media Artist * Writer * Native Traditional Herbal Science

Born on the Negootiook(Tobique) First Nation Community 1936.
Original member of the Wabanaki Language group of New Brunswick Canada.

Recipient of; Excellence in the Arts Award 2002 from The New Brunswick Arts Board, NB Canada

Hamilton : City Looks to Add Arts Hub - Downtown Centre Would Be 'Catalyst'

Jeremy Freiburger, director of the Imperial Cotton Centre for the Arts, which creates and manages spaces for artists

Arts Participation 2008: Highlights From a National Survey


Arts Participation 2008: Highlights from a National Survey features top findings from the 2008 Survey of Public Participation in the Arts, the nation’s largest and most representative periodic study of adult participation in arts events and activities, conducted by the NEA in partnership with the U.S. Census Bureau. June 2009. 16 pp.

James Irvine Foundation Rewards the Innovators

Art Gallery of Ontario and Metro Toronto Convention Centre Partnership Brings Art to the Community

Metro Toronto Convention Centre

Met Replaces Villazón in ‘Hoffmann’

The Maltese tenor Joseph Calleja

To view Joseph Calleja's website :

http://www.josephcalleja.com/index.php

Art Teacher Wins Portrait Prize

Blackett Seeks End to Arts 'Cannibalizing'

Lindsay Blackett wants arts groups to stop tussling for limited funds.
Photograph by: Shaughn Butts, The Journal, File, Edmonton Journal

Fewer Lots And Lower Prices in London's Sale Rooms

Monday, June 15, 2009

Shakespeare : Hamlet : Act I Scene V

In William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, the ghost of Hamlet’s father appears very briefly. However, he provides the basis for the development and eventual downfall of Hamlet’s character.
The GHOST and HAMLET

Ghost I am thy father's spirit,
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, 15
And for the day confined to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word 20
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part
And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: 25
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
If thou didst ever thy dear father love--
HAMLET O God!
Ghost Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. 30
HAMLET Murder!
Ghost Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange and unnatural.
HAMLET Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift
As meditation or the thoughts of love, 35
May sweep to my revenge.
Ghost I find thee apt;
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: 40
'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life 45
Now wears his crown.
HAMLET O my prophetic soul! My uncle!
Ghost Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,--
O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power 50
So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:
O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity
That it went hand in hand even with the vow 55
I made to her in marriage, and to decline
Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine!
But virtue, as it never will be moved,
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, 60
So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
Will sate itself in a celestial bed,
And prey on garbage.
But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, 65
My custom always of the afternoon,
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,
And in the porches of my ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect 70
Holds such an enmity with blood of man
That swift as quicksilver it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body,
And with a sudden vigour doth posset
And curd, like eager droppings into milk, 75
The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;
And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,
All my smooth body.
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand 80
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd:
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd,
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head: 85
O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, 90
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, 95
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.
Exit
HAMLET O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else?
And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart;
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 100
But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, 105
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven! 110
O most pernicious woman!
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
My tables,--meet it is I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark: 115
Writing
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.'
I have sworn 't.
HORATIO [Within] My lord, my lord,-- 120
MARCELLUS Lord Hamlet!
HORATIO Heavens secure him!
HAMLET So be it!
MARCELLUS Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
HAMLET Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS
MARCELLUS How is't, my noble lord?
HORATIO What news, my lord?
HAMLET O, wonderful! 125
HORATIO Good my lord, tell it.
HAMLET No; you'll reveal it.
HORATIO Not I, my lord, by heaven.
MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord.
HAMLET How say you, then; would heart of man once think it?
But you'll be secret? 130
HORATIO. MARCELLUS Ay, by heaven, my lord.
HAMLET There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
But he's an arrant knave.
HORATIO There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave 135
To tell us this.
HAMLET Why, right; you are i' the right;
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:
You, as your business and desire shall point you; 140
For every man has business and desire,
Such as it is; and for mine own poor part,
Look you, I'll go pray.
HORATIO These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
HAMLET I'm sorry they offend you, heartily; 145
Yes, 'faith heartily.
HORATIO There's no offence, my lord.
HAMLET Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
And much offence too. Touching this vision here,
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: 150
For your desire to know what is between us,
O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
HORATIO What is't, my lord? we will. 155
HAMLET Never make known what you have seen to-night.
HORATIO, MARCELLUS My lord, we will not.
HAMLET Nay, but swear't.
HORATIO In faith,
My lord, not I. 160
MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord, in faith.
HAMLET Upon my sword.
MARCELLUS We have sworn, my lord, already.
HAMLET Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
bsp; Beneath
HAMLET Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there,
truepenny?
Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage-- 165
Consent to swear.
HORATIO Propose the oath, my lord.
HAMLET Never to speak of this that you have seen,
Swear by my sword.
Ghost Beneath
HAMLET Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground. 170
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword:
Never to speak of this that you have heard,
Swear by my sword.
GHOST CRIES BENEATH THE STAGE
HAMLET Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast? 175
A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.
HORATIO O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
HAMLET And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come; 180
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on,
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, 185
With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,'
Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,'
Or such ambiguous giving out, to note 190
That you know aught of me: this not to do,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.
Ghost Beneath
HAMLET Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!
(They swear)
HAMLET So, gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is 195
May do, to express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right! 200
Nay, come, let's go together.
Exeunt

Beethoven Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92 : Herbert Von Karajan, BPO


To learn more about symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92 :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphony_No._7_%28Beethoven%29


To review the concept of Symphony :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphony

To learn more about Ludwig van Beethoven :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beethoven


To read all Bethoven's letters translated in english : 1790-1826

Volume 1 : http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/13065

Volume 2 :
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/13272


To learn more about Maestro Herbert von Karajan :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herbert_von_Karajan

To learn about the Berlin Philarmonic Orchestra (BPO) :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Philharmonic

Friday, June 12, 2009

Women in Art

Annie's Song


Annie's Song

You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again.

Come let me love you,
let me give my life to you
let me drown in your laughter,
let me die in your arms
let me lay down beside you,
let me always be with you
come let me love you,
come love me again.

You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again.