Ever wonder about the first & the last ....

If the photograph looks familiar, it is because I used it once before .... long/long ago on June 23, 2015, with a post entitled, "My voice is as the wind amidst ghosts." You get three guesses what I meant by those words. The "moon" is here again because it is sort of tied in with the post today, as you will discover if you continue reading. There also are four videos, two about "genteel" music and two about "heavy-duty" rock, which also have roles to play in this performance:

Louis-Hector Berlioz: "Requiem," Robert Shaw conducting a rehearsal  / J.S. Bach: "Dona Nobis Pacem" from Mass in b minor, BWV 232, Robert Shaw conducting / AC\DC: "You Shook Me All Night Long," cover by Sershen & Zaritskaya, featuring Kim and Shturmak / (AC\DC: "You Shook Me All Night Long," cover by Sershen & Zaritskaya, drunk drummer playthrough

Music is "very damn near a religion"

Ever think about -- wonder about -- the first time and the last time?

 Whoa ....

This probably is not what entered your mind as you read the opening sentence, but it is related in sort of a sideways manner.  Specifically, I was wondering about the first book you ever read and which might be the last you ever read .... or a song -- what was the first song you ever heard that you recall and which will be the last you ever will hear? Do things such as these make a difference? Are they at all relevant to your life?

Robert Lawson Shaw believed these things are very important in terms of music and once said these words in respect to concert songs: "You never know who is going to be hearing that piece for the first time, and you never know who is going to be hearing that piece for the last time."

He believed that alone makes the piece and the performance very important -- relevant beyond words.

This was not Robert Archibald Shaw, the English actor, novelist and playwright speaking, an individual I admire for his performances on stage and film. That Shaw probably is best remembered as the assassin in, "From Russia with Love," and the obsessed fisherman in, "Jaws."

Rather, this is Shaw, the "music man." He probably is best remembered as the director of the Cleveland Orchestra and Chorus and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus.  He is also noted for being a "perfectionist" with his performances and his recordings, and for his absolute support for racial integration in his choruses. He died in 1999 from a stroke while attending a performance of Samuel Beckett's one-act play, "Endgame," at Yale University.

Music was more than luxury or entertainment for Shaw. It was communication, spirit itself, a moral force .... "very damn near a religion." His rehearsal techniques, isolating rhythm, pitch or enunciation, were calculated for maximum effect and efficiency. He might reseat singers, mixing voices to achieve a homogeneous overall sound, or shift voices to another line if it suited his concept of the way resonance was best projected.

Shaw believed a song could transform individuals many ways and change their lives, which was why he was a "perfectionist" and sought synthesis between the practical and the emotional when preparing for concerts. Once a choir became fully accountable for the structure of a piece, the "true magic" of emotion and interpretation could emerge, he said.

Hmmmm ....

The other song features Daria Zaritskaya and Sergey Sershen from Kiev. Information about the band is scarce, but I assume all its members are from the same area, including the drunk drummer -- who sure can handle the sticks and skins and is one hell of a great chair dancer.

The contrast between the songs and the individuals performing them is ostensibly stark. From my perspective, it almost is a certainty it would be fascinating to individually interview a few from each group. It also almost is a certainty there are more similarities than one might expect.

The time for the "moon flight" has arrived: I have a habit for which there is no real explanation. Each month, if and when I see the full moon, I look at it long and hard wondering if this will be the last I ever see it. This month -- October 2020 -- we are fortunate. It is a "blue moon" month, with one full on the 1^st and another on the 31^st.

I hope circumstances will be right for me to see the one upcoming ....

So, one more reminder: Think a bit in terms of the first and the last and, if nothing else, it will give you greater appreciation for the life you have ....

"Softer than a summer night"

I like the style and works of French impressionist Pierre-Auguste Renoir and I like the face of Margot. It seems Renoir liked her, too, because he painted her a number of times. I found a few more of those works and picked one for post No. 2 of this episode. By the way, I broke this into two pieces simply because it is long/long/long, which often discourages people from reading a particular item. This way, I figured long/lo would only be one-half as discouraging. I also selected three more pieces of music to include here today. They are Luigi Boccherini -- Nuria Rial performing "Virgo virginum praeclara" / Jay & the Americans -- "This Magic Moment" / Ricky Nelson -- "Never Be Anyone Else But You."

Yep, magic .... Part 2 of 2

Definitions of magic straight from Merriam-Webster: The use of means believed to have supernatural power over natural forces and an extraordinary power or influence seemingly from a supernatural source. There undoubtedly are more, but we will leave it at those for now.

My own priorities in magic have centered around two. One has been in relation to time travel, which is very romantic in one sense, but sort of impractical in terms of quantum physics. There is a theory that it might be possible to locate a wormhole and use it as a bridge to travel through time. According to general relativity, this concept might actually work, but when it comes to our understanding of the Universe, general relativity probably does not have the final word.

Actually, physics is not "my thing," and I prefer the simpler idea that time is like a river and we each are in our own canoe drifting along in it .... and, if this is true, should it not be possible to paddle to the shoreline, get out of the canoe and walk forward or back along the riverbank? Sort of like physics for idiots, I suppose ....

Time to divert into a story of sorts. I am pretty much of a right person at the right place at the right time individual .... and conversely, the wrong at the wrong at the wrong.

 This magic moment

 So different and so new

 Was like any other

 Until I kissed you

And then it happened

 It took me by surprise

 I knew that you felt it too

 By the look in your eyes

Sweeter than wine

Softer than a summer night

Those were some of the lyrics from the song, "This Magic Moment." I have kissed a young lady or two or three, a few with significant passion, but only once did a kiss seem magically perfect. A group of  "we budding journalists" went to a saloon one evening after work and, a few hours later, only two of us remained. The young lady was sitting on one side of a booth and I was on the other side. We were leaning inward, forearms on the table, looking at each other, talking (about what, I cannot recall) when we both slowly moved nearer and nearer until we were kissing.

If there is such a thing as an impeccable kiss, this was it. Our lips seemed to fit perfectly, as though they had been molded each to match the other's. We kissed like that a few more times. I thought I might melt. I will not describe the evening further than to say each kiss seemed as "magical" as the first and that a few minutes later, we both left and went our separate ways.

In one sense, that is the end of the story, but, from another aspect, it is not.

I was married (for the second time) with two young children at home / totally career-oriented / determined to make my marriage work. The young lady was single / very attractive / an excellent reporter / just over a relationship.

We were alone together, by her design, a few times after that. We talked and talked and talked and got to know each other very well in terms of history and personality -- but, there never was anything more to it. Never even another kiss, although it was obvious we both remembered the first few and wanted to experience them again.

At some point along the way, I had begun to wonder if she possibly was the "right/ideal" person for me, but our encounter for me was the wrong place at the wrong time. I moved to a new job in a new town a few months later .... then on to still other places.  Our lives continued to intersect occasionally, always by a visit or a telephone call from her. 

She eventually left journalism and became a high school English teacher. It one point, I discovered she was teaching in a school three blocks as the blue jay flies from my residence. How do you interpret that other than destiny? By then, though, we had not had contact for a few years and I put her out of my mind.

People sometimes say they have found a "soul mate." You occasionally meet someone who claims to have a mate who sets them aflame. Among the things I wonder about (curiosity again) is how many are being honest when they say these things or how many have told themselves those things so many times they actually have come to believe them and affection has replaced love. Love is born in an instant, I believe, although it might take years to recognize it.  Affection grows during the passage of time. I wonder where the line is between the two -- or if there is a line .... 

I do not believe there are words adequate to describe "the kiss." Have you ever encountered a particular word in a language for which there is no equivalent word in any other language? I suppose I could try to invent a word for this experience, but every word needs a definition and this would be where I encounter an impenetrable wall. All I know is that I never have experienced anything like it before or since .... hence, it shall remain undefined in any language.

My conclusion for this event and other experiences?  I believe there can be "magic" by any definition between individuals and, although I have not experienced any other forms (of which I am aware), I have no reason to believe it cannot exist .... which is light years away from actually believing in it or disbelieving in it in other forms ....

"If you believe in magic, come along with me"

"The Reader" (Young Woman Reading a Book) is an 1875-76 oil on canvas by French impressionist Pierre-Auguste Renoir. The model was Margot, who is described as having curly auburn hair, sparse eyebrows, a wide nose, plump cheeks, often seen with her voluptuous lips curled in a scornful smile, and a noisy and a vulgar way of speaking with her suburban, Parisian accent. She is a dancing girl and was painted often by Renoir -- always transfigured by his art. In 1881, she died of typhoid fever .... Renoir paid for her burial. The musical selections today are The Yardbirds -- "Train Kept 'a Rollin'" (a clip from the 1966 film "Blowup" featuring two guitar legends in their early days) / Claude Debussy: An orchestra variation of "The Girl with the Flaxen Hair" / J.S. Bach -- Nuria Rial & L'Arpeggiata -- "La dama d'Aragó" (Cantata BWV 89).

A tale of the times .... more-or-less

(Part 1 of 2)

Double double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the caldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,

Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Cool it with a baboon’s blood,

Then the charm is firm and good

Those lines and a few more were among some I memorized as a 15-year-old in a high school English class. They come from the play, "Macbeth," written in trochaic tetrameter by William Shakespeare.  This was my first exposure to "Willie Boy," an encounter which has taken place many times during the years since.

The words are spoken by three witches and probably are among the most quoted and misquoted lines composed by friend Shakespeare. I have a tendency to think "bubble bubble," rather than "double double."

Although I am not a religious individual, I like to think of myself as a spiritual one and believe I was "blest" to have had two absolutely dedicated and superb English teachers during five of my six high school years. One was a spinster who had lifelong medical problems and died young, and the other was a married lady whose husband had a deserved reputation for pursuing anyone who wore a skirt, as the old cliché noted. My speculation is that they found solace in literature for the cards life had dealt them and felt an obligation to pass their love for it on to their students.

Moving along with a hop, a skip and a jump:

This is not a post about Shakespeare or my reading habits and not even about the "magic day" of October: Hallows' Even or Hallows' Evening or Allhalloween or, as it is known today, Halloween.

Relax, we shall pass by the history and traditions of Halloween, a liturgical event for remembering the dead. Such data is abundant for those curious enough to look.

Rather, this is a two-part post about magic. Yep, magic .... well, sort of, anyway ....

(End Part 1 .... to be continued ....)