03.14.08
Posted in Music at 10:21 am by Administrator
Andrea Bocelli’s music is wonderful. He is one of my favorite musical artists and this past winter, I’ve enjoyed his concerts on PBS and the interview they did with him. His voice is soothing and his choice of songs, delightful. His songs in Italian make me wish I spoke Italian. One song that he sings that I do understand is in Spanish, called “Bésame Mucho.”
In seeking more information about this particular song, I found out that it was written in the 1940s by a Mexican woman who died in 2005 at the age of 88. Her name is Consuelo Velazquez (I’d put an accent mark on the “a” in her last name, but this particular blog program does not recognize the computer signals for that accented letter designation).
In part, the haunting lyrics say: “Kiss me much … as if it were the last time.” Off hand, I would say that those words were very appropriate, if written in the 1940s, wouldn’t you?
Andrea Bocelli’s CDs are sold on amazon and in various music stores. You Tube had had a link to this song performance, but removed it. Perhaps it was an unauthorized taping?
At any rate, if you have the chance, download some of Bocelli’s songs or buy one of his CDs. He is a true talent. The world needs more beautiful souls, like him.
Patricia Cummings
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12.14.07
Posted in Music, Musings at 1:53 pm by Administrator
A song, sung by Susie Burke, one of New Hampshire’s own folksingers, contains the words, “How many angels dance on the head of a pin?” This morning I woke up thinking about this idea and mumbled something, apparently incoherent, about it to Jim over breakfast. He said that he’d heard of that as a medieval idea, and that perhaps I should “Google” the words.
Dutifully, I went to the computer and looked at the first couple of pages of entries under that category. Surprisingly, there are some 118,000 files. I was amused by all that I read. One person said that it is very apparent that only one angel can dance on the head of a pin due to the fact that only one angel has taken dancing lessons.
Another person with a sense of humor stated the he was sure that four angels can fit on the end of a pin. This he attributes to current OSHA regulations and their concern for the structural support of the pin.
Yet another upended the discussion by saying that what we should be discussing is the needle’s tip, not the head. Still another said that being non-corporeal bodies, an infinitesimal number of angels can fit on the head of a pin.
So where did the discussion get started? Did medievalist theologians really sit around talking about these kinds of questions to which there are no ready answers? Saint Thomas Aquinas is the person most often blamed for bending his mind in this direction. Unless we want to hold a seance, we’ll probably never know to whom we should give credit for the thought.
These days, the words, “How many angels dance on the head of a pin?” are said in jest, as a way to spoof the unknowable or perhaps professors with a pet theory. Personally, being a fancier of “thought,” I enjoy considering the notion. Furthermore, I really appreciate Susie Burke’s song and its other equally unanswerable questions.
Thank goodness for those who can envision worlds that we cannot see. Without them, we would have no space explorers, no microbiologists, and no Norad tracking for Santa. We would be stuck in readily known and understood phenomena and it would be a much more boring world.
Patricia Cummings
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12.03.07
Posted in Music at 2:17 pm by Administrator
If you asked Bob Dylan what it felt like to be the “voice of his generation,” he’d ask you what you mean. He is, and always has been, his own voice. Last night, our local PBS station was running selected clips of Dylan’s career. Clearly, he has always been his own person.
There is something captivating about him. He charms us with his disjointed lyrics, that often capture a universal truth with which we can identify. Then, like a bird on the wing, his words are swept along by the wind, going in different directions. They sometimes retain a sense of clarity known only to himself. However, the lyrics are delivered with such passion and conviction, the listener is convinced that there is a greater meaning that might require further exploration. In summary, his uncanny ability to craft words is his mystique.
My brother attended the Newport Folk Festival in the early 1960s. Seven years younger than him, I wasn’t allowed to go along because all of “those hippies, draft-dodgers, and otherwise unsavory characters” would be there. My parents had heard the strains of Dave van Ronk, emanating from Steve’s bedroom, and had listened to him singing along in a loud, deep voice. My parents decided that the words, “cocaine … run all around my brain,” were not lyrics suitable for an impressionable teenager, such as myself, to experience first hand.
In Rhode Island, amid the mix of acoustic guitars, comes this upshot, skinny “kid” with his electric guitar. Although he was boo-ed off the stage by the folk purists, at the end of that song, Dylan returned with his acoustic guitar to sing, “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue,” a song that may have had more intrinsic meaning than that of a mere love song. Could it have been a harbinger of the end of “just” acoustic folk music? Some analysts say that Dylan achieved something unexpected that day, and that his performance was, in fact, the beginning of the folk-rock movement.
The thing with Dylan is that one is never quite sure what he means, or what his exact points of reference are. His most popular songs seem to be the more straightforward and easily understood ones, for example, “Times They Are A Changin’.” Quite often, Dylan waxes poetic, and the message that might be more palatable in a print format gets lost in the trailing words of a song with so many lyrics. His songs are sometimes like a speeding train. We know there are people inside, we just can’t make out their faces, and then they are “gone.”
Musical groups such as The Bryds recorded a number of Dylan songs. “Mr. Tambourine Man” is one of those. One has to listen closely when Dylan sings. It’s almost as though he is purposely slurring or losing some of his words just to get people to pay close attention. He can almost defy us to make sense of the onslaught of his allusions. At other times, his enunciation is pronounced, if not “over-enunciated,” and the words are completely understandable.
While watching the PBS special, I was struck by both the creative genius and musical prowess of this weaver of words. I enjoyed seeing the old footage. It took me back to a time and place when I was young, and when performers like Joan Baez, Judy Collins, and Bob Dylan were carrying on and modifying the folk tradition solidified by Pete Seeger, The Weavers, Woody Guthrie and others. Only in old videos can we revisit the past in this way, and for a short time, transcend the fact that we have aged, and that new musical trends are in place now.
Folk music, the ’60s, Newport, Woodstock, and all that was part of that scene will live on, especially as remembered by those of us who were profoundly influenced by the music of those times. Bob Dylan stands out as a pivotal part of the changing music. While his earlier music is most within reach, he is still composing and playing music today. However, we have been the richer to see Dylan change and grow and share the interior recesses of his mind’s perceptions. We are all the more blessed.
Patricia Cummings
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