Larry Kart

The 1951 "Go-Go" Chicago White Sox, with Nellie Fox, Minnie Minoso, Billy Pierce, Chico Carrasquel, et al., managed by Paul Richards. IIRC, they were in first place as late as July 1st but finished in fourth, 17 games behind the Yankees. Great fun while it lasted.

Not that it settles anything about his sexual orientation, but it's my understanding that Navarro's rather high-pitched voice and his girth led to the "Fat Girl" nickname.

Skimming through that lengthy column, I was surprised to see that there was quite a bit of truth behind Greene's very famous line about Sinatra having saved his life. I always found Greene to be hysterically funny, primarily when I saw him guest on Carson's Tonight Show. Wish I would have seen him in person. Many thanks for the link. Yes, but I think they got the Sinatra joke a bit wrong. As I recall, and I heard Shecky deliver it, it goes like this: "Frank Sinatra? Wonderful man -- saved my life. One night in the parking lot of the Sands Hotel three guys were beating the crap out of me, and Frank said, 'That's enough.'" There might have been an extra beat or two in there, a la "Frank Sinatra? Wonderful man, prince of a fellow -- saved my life" etc., but I'm pretty sure about the rest. And if I am right about this, I think that the rhythms and wording really matter. Yes, I guess they did get it "a bit wrong", but I hadn't really noticed. I recall it the exact same way you do, because I've repeated the story many times to various people over the years. Additionally, I think Greene mentioned that the incident happened after a set when he went out to the parking lot to take a break, the implication being once the punch line is delivered that he must have said something to irk Sinatra during his set. Yes, as the blog entry about Greene would lead one to expect, he was almost certainly talking during his set about Sinatra's mob connections. In fact, the night I heard him tell the joke at a club in suburban Chicago, he was going on about Sinatra and mob-upped L.A. attorney Sidney Korshak (originally from Chicago), who happened to be the uncle of the woman who was the publicist for the venue and one of the more powerful figures in the Chicago entertainment world. She was not amused.

Skimming through that lengthy column, I was surprised to see that there was quite a bit of truth behind Greene's very famous line about Sinatra having saved his life. I always found Greene to be hysterically funny, primarily when I saw him guest on Carson's Tonight Show. Wish I would have seen him in person. Many thanks for the link. Yes, but I think they got the Sinatra joke a bit wrong. As I recall, and I heard Shecky deliver it, it goes like this: "Frank Sinatra? Wonderful man -- saved my life. One night in the parking lot of the Sands Hotel three guys were beating the crap out of me, and Frank said, 'That's enough.'" There might have been an extra beat or two in there, a la "Frank Sinatra? Wonderful man, prince of a fellow -- saved my life" etc., but I'm pretty sure about the rest. And if I am right about this, I think that the rhythms and wording really matter.

Four very good Mozart concerti performances from Casadesus (in concert from 1958-69 with the French National Radio Orchestra and various conductors -- Von Matacic, Martinon, Monteux, and Zinman) at Berkshire, $9.98 for two discs: http://www2.broinc.com/search.php?row=0&brocode=&stocknum=&text=casadesus+mozart+Zinman&filter=all&cd=1&submit=Search Sound is a bit acidic, but Casadesus' rhythmic urgency is quite something.

Good (maybe great) news. Don't think I've ever managed to hear the Orch-tette with Eddie Costa on vibes, except maybe once in passing a LONG time ago.

That's been my experience, too, darn it. All I can do is point to/enjoy the pianists who bring the music to life for me (e.g, Perlemuter and Rubinstein) and wonder why so many others don't. I'm reminded, too, of a revelatory performance of the Clarinet Concerto with Karl Leister and (to my disbelief) Karajan (on EMI, in a box with other Mozart wind concerti played by BPO principals of the time). Not that there aren't plenty of nice or better recordings of the work, but there was a certain "instantaniety" of rhythm to Leister's phrasing that made this familiar piece seem like I'd never before heard all that was there. It has something to do with the fundamental transparency of the music and the purity of the melodic expression. It looks fairly simple on the page and doesn't require finger-busting technique, but it's tricky to get to the emotional core of the music. Sometimes chefs will say that the hardest thing to do is to perfectly roast a chicken -- not fancy techniques, no fancy sauces, no layers of ingredients. Just pure fundamental technique. Not the most sublime metaphor perhaps, but maybe great Mozart is as elusive as the ideal roast chicken. Didn't like Staier much here, too "pecky"; much preferred Bilson. Moms, if you're familiar with Anthony Newman's fortepiano recordings of the Mozart sonatas, what do you think? I have Vol. 1 and am impressed. OTOH, as with many fortepiano performances I've heard of this repertoire, so much seems to come down to the choice of instrument e.g. Bilson's warmer, more "piano-like" one versus Staier's tinkle box. Also, I've just ordered from Berkshire the Music & Arts two-CD Casadesus set of Mozart concerti (in concert, with various French radio orchestras and conductors).

(Apologies for cutting the summary part of your post.) The reason the plot summary doesn't match up with my account of its point is that it doesn't match up with the film. Gil is shown on the plane just sitting there, expressing no obvious emotion, let alone guilt; it's clear now that he coldly played a part for Cecelia so he could solve his career problem and move on. Cecelia's reaction to the Astaire film is, IIRC, not as enraptured as it was previously; she's in tears, not "losing herself in the film" at all: she's learnt a painful lesson. It's downbeat, sure, but not finger-wagging IMO. I'll have to watch the movie again. As I said, it's been years. Actually, now that I think of it, I did start watching once on TV within the last year or so, and the depiction in the early scenes of Farrow's character, to quote Kehr again, "fragile, waiflike, terminally pathetic" was more than I could take, "the embodiment of every obnoxious Hollywood cliche of the 'little person.'"

Not sure if escapism is something to be "celebrated"...a little goes a long way as far as improving one's actual condition, if that is in fact from what one is trying to escape. I don't know much, but I do know that. Have you seen the film? It's more or less making that point; that escapist entertainment is a wonderful thing, but ultimately you have to accept reality. The romantic Hollywood movies of the Thirties are pastiched and satirised but very affectionately; they certainly aren't "criticised" as Dave Kehr suggests. Haven't seen the film itself in years, but this plot summary doesn't seem to match up that well with your account of its point: "In New Jersey during the Great Depression, Cecilia (Mia Farrow) is a clumsy waitress who goes to the movies to escape her bleak life and loveless marriage to Monk (Danny Aiello), whom she has attempted to leave on numerous occasions. "The latest film Cecilia sees is a fictitious RKO Radio Pictures film, The Purple Rose of Cairo. It is the story of a rich Manhattan playwright (Edward Herrmann) who goes on an exotic vacation to Egypt with companions Jason (John Wood) and Rita (Deborah Rush). While in Egypt, the three meet archaeologist Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels). Tom is brought back for a "madcap Manhattan weekend" where he falls head-over-heels for Kitty Haynes (Karen Akers), a chanteuse at the Copacabana. When Cecilia sees the film several times, Tom breaks the fourth wall, emerging from the black-and-white into the colorful real world on the other side of the cinema's screen. The producer of the film learns that Tom has left the film, and he flies cross-country to New Jersey with actor Gil Shepherd (also played by Jeff Daniels). This sets up an unusual love triangle involving Tom, Gil and Cecilia. The downbeat ending has Cecilia give up the chance to return with Tom to his world, choosing to stay with Gil and have a 'real' life. "Gil then abandons her and is seen quietly racked with guilt on his flight back to Hollywood. Having been left without a lover, job or home (but most likely to return to Monk), Cecilia ends up watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing to "Cheek-to-Cheek" in the film Top Hat, forgetting her dire situation and losing herself in the film." In particular, the real-life situation Cecelia returns to is unremittingly "dire," and she loses herself in Fred and Ginger a la a heroin addict. These are, to be sure, the downbeat, rather finger-wagging alternatives that Allen choose to give us here, not IMO a particularly plausible account of how American popular entertainment of that era (and many others) actually functioned/functions in the lives of its audiences.

Your friend seems like someone who thinks too much. But what do I know? Dave is not only a friend but also one of best film critics around: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dave_Kehr Not that that automatically makes him right about Woody Allen or anything else, but he has been a "student of the game" for some 40 years. No offense intended. I'll have to check out some of his writing. None taken. Just wanted to make it clear that Dave wasn't only a friend.

Your friend seems like someone who thinks too much. But what do I know? Dave is not only a friend but also one of best film critics around: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dave_Kehr Not that that automatically makes him right about Woody Allen or anything else, but he has been a "student of the game" for some 40 years.

To modify an old John Litweiler line, Paal Nilssen-Love is a Philly Joe Jones from hell. That's praise BTW. Further, as fierce as he typically is, what P N-L plays makes beautiful sense, complements and stimulates whoever else is on the stand. I think that's because, as with PJJ, one can always feel the rudiments at the base of things.

To borrow something that my friend Dave Kehr said about the somewhat similar "The Purple Rose of Cairo" back in 1985: "Woody Allen's naive notions of art -- he thinks it means a story with a moral -- might have some primitive charm if he didn't put them forward so self-importantly. And the sophomoric illusion-versus-reality games he plays in this film might be easier to take if he had the directorial skills necessary to establish a meaningful demarcation between the two worlds: as it stands, his 'reality' is just as flimsily conceived, and populated by characters every bit as flat, as the romantic illusion the film is meant to criticize." OTOH, the theater where I saw "Midnight In Paris" was full of people who seemed to be enjoying the heck out of the movie, so what do I know?

Probably Jeb Bishop and Paal Nilssen-Love at the Hungry Brain. First set a duo, second adds Dave Rempis and Josh Abrams: http://www.umbrellamusic.org/concerts/hungry-brain/2011-06-05

A few observations prompted by Koren's list, and in a way I'm thinking about more than just Mozart and the piano concertos. I know many of these performances to be very fine, but I am struck by the fact that nearly all are 40 to 50 years old or more. (I guess the Horowitz is from the mid 80s, and I'm not sure if he's referencing early or late Michelangeli, but we're still talking about one of the Great Men of history.) Maybe Mozart interpretation really did peak at mid century; certainly many of these are timeless recordings. But I also wonder if this list reflects the manifestation of a certain record-collector syndrome, namely that older is better, that only a few masters have a line on Truth and that the first records we really learned, those that made us fall in love with particular pieces in the first place, or those that we acquired when we were coming into our own maturity as listeners, remain unimpeachable -- especially compared to the "drivel" being released today. I know the syndrome because I have to fight it, as I suspect many of us do. There but for the grace of God and all that. I know from my own listening how tempting it can be to dismiss recordings because they differ from the sound in my head that was shaped by the records that first captured my imagination when I was working in a classical record store 25 years ago and methodically learning the standard repertoire. For me personally it's become incredibly important to be an active concertgoer -- I'm blessed that it's my job -- because I like to think it keeps my ears open to alternative interpretations, contemporary performers and a sense of the art as a still-evolving organism. It can be seductive and perhaps dangerous to retreat so deep into your record collection that you forget to come up for air. In that spirit, I would recommend recent recordings of various Mozart concertos by the Norwegian painist Leif Ove Andsnes (9/18; 17/20, EMI); and the Polish-born Piotr Anderszewski (21/24, Virgin). Both have the drama and intensity I require but honor the lyricism too; Andsness is more electric; Anderszewski is smoother but doesn't preen. But have lots of imagination and both conduct from the keyboard. I recently picked up Pierre-Laurent Aimard's recording of 6, 16 and 27 with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe (Warner) but have only listened once so I haven't fully absorbed it, but I was struck by the scrubbed clarity of articulation and sound and the rhythmic zest. Aimard is remarkable in contemporary rep (Boulez, Carter, Messiaen, Ligeti), which has had a strong impact on how he approaches older music. On the other hand, it also sounded a little icy and less variegated than I wanted. I need to spend more time with it before I make up my mind. You're right about Koren apparently being something of "lost golden age" customer, but that's only or mostly apparently. IIRC, he was very enthusiastic about several of Helene Grimaud's early recordings (in his opinion, and mine too, albeit mine is based on more limited experience, things have gone awry for Grimaud over the years, but in her teens she often was astonishing), and he did nip ups about the first two (and only two, I believe, sad to say) recordings by Naida Cole, which are superb. Cole, it seems, has more or less retired from concertizing to pursue a career in medicine. At least, unlike Grimaud, she isn't dancing with wolves. I'll try to check out those Andsnes and Anderszewski recordings.

More on the way.

His handsomely recorded (by Malcolm Addey) 1998 trio album on JMI "Ray's Tribute To His Jazz Piano Friends" (with Ray Drummond and Winard Harper) is a gem. Nice cover photo of Bryant and soulful accounts from him in the liner notes of his connection to each pianist he pays tribute to. The version of Brubeck's "The Duke" is exceptional; he really plays on that piece.

FWIW, a list of "great performances" of the Mozart PC from the reigning (albeit at times eccentric) rec.music.classical.recordings piano maven Dan Koren: #9 KV271 Gilels, Richter #10 KV365 Gilels/Gilels, Casadesus/Casadesus #13 KV415 Michelangeli #15 KV450 Michelangeli, Richter #17 KV453 Bashkirov, Edwin Fischer, Richter, Casadesus #20 KV466 Michelangeli, Richter, Schnabel, Rubinstein #21 KV467 Gilels, Lipatti, Casadesus #22 KV482 Richter, Casadesus #23 KV488 Horowitz, Rubinstein, Casadesus #24 KV491 Bashkirov, Fischer, Richter, Casadesus #25 KV503 Edwin Fischer, Richter, Casadesus #26 KV537 Casadesus #27 KV595 Gilels, Richter, Schnabel, Casadesus Don't always agree with Koren myself on these or any of his enthusiasms or execrations, though I usually find his enthusiasms to be quite reliable, more so than his put downs.

Then it's done its job. But I'd recommend looking beyond this particular locker room for other interpretations. The views expressed here on Uchida are by no means widely held. In Clementine's case it's the usual 'bad boy' posturing. Have a look at the Penguin guide (watch out for incoming!) for a viewpoint that also expresses reservations about the Uchida ('none of the performances of the major works here would be a first choice') but without the hyperbole that seems to be de rigueur here. FWIW, on the chief Internet classical music discussion group I know -- rec.music.classical.recordings -- Uchida's work in Mozart and everything else is generally frowned upon to say the least. I know, another locker room, but those views are widely held there. In general, she's slagged for "prettifying" and/or miniaturizing the music she plays, but if you're curious, go to that group, plug in Uchida, and be prepared for hyperbole.

That's been my experience, too, darn it. All I can do is point to/enjoy the pianists who bring the music to life for me (e.g, Perlemuter and Rubinstein) and wonder why so many others don't. I'm reminded, too, of a revelatory performance of the Clarinet Concerto with Karl Leister and (to my disbelief) Karajan (on EMI, in a box with other Mozart wind concerti played by BPO principals of the time). Not that there aren't plenty of nice or better recordings of the work, but there was a certain "instantaniety" of rhythm to Leister's phrasing that made this familiar piece seem like I'd never before heard all that was there.

There are times when I feel that Mozart is Debussy's key precursor, that in Mozart coloristic/timbral factors are not decorative but structural and/or that from which structures flow. IIRC, Charles Rosen says some shrewd things about this in "The Classical Style," writing about K. 364.

All we 'learn' from that are attitudes and how to strike them. Lots of 'attitudes' here about Uchida, for example, but virtually nothing to explain why she is to be despised (even the purple passage in her favour from a few years back gets disowned without any explanation). I've no axe to grind about her music as I don't know her recordings. But this thread leaves me no wiser as to why I should be sneering at her. Though it certainly teaches me how. Back to your discussion, chaps. I look forward to learning something. If I'm the author of the now-disowned purple passage in [uchida's] favour from a few years back" that you have in mind, I don't think it was a purple passage but fairly precise about what I then felt her virtues to be. And I don't disown my characterization there of how that music works but of how well Uchida realizes it. I now don't care for her playing because over time and with further listening experience it strikes me as very prissy and genteel (echoing Moms Mabley here -- when you're right, you're right) and above all nearly monochromatic, albeit (as they say) "pearly." In this respect, in somewhat similar ways, Perlemuter and Rubinstein are great antidotes. Drama in the Mozart piano concertos (as MM says) typically is of the essence, and in my experience what might be called coloristic/timbral means and understanding are among the chief ways to get there.

Almost forgot -- Arthur Rubinstein, four concerti from 1961 with Wallenstein and one from 1958 with Krips on two very full CDs (K.453, 466, 467, 488, and 491) from RCA: http://www.amazon.com/Rubinstein-Collection-Wolfgang-Amadeus-Mozart/dp/B000031WC1/ref=sr_1_1?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1306869583&sr=1-1

Let's keep all the Duke Pearson posts in this thread, which I've just placed in "Artists" because that seems to be the category into which everything posted on Pearson fits best.

In the sonatas, Vlado Perlemuter. In the concertos, Uchida still sits on the shelves. I'm not happy about that but don't seem to have the energy to start over. Don't imagine there's a complete set for me, so I 'd have to do it concerto by concerto. A past encounter with Perahia's set was not to my taste.