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For anybody who knows what I write about, they know I studied classical music at the age of seven. I was always very sensitive to moods, states of mind, and I responded quickly to new experiences. When I learned to play the piano I was given Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart to study but, to be honest, I was also given these composers to worship. The piano and the playing of it became spiritual. As I’ve heard before, once you learn to read music you never forget how to do it. So as an adult I started playing again as if no time had elapsed. I will write about one piece by Bach called Prelude in C Major. There is no piece of music like this one. It was included in a story I wrote. The more you listen, the more you play it, the more you find. It is difficult and easy at the same time; it takes you on a “magic carpet ride”–which will be dealt with later! It’s a magic carpet ride into your self.
Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, along with the Prelude, is my favorite piece. It’s short, intensive, way too complicated for me to play. It’s written for an orchestra but has within it a piano piece. The New York Philharmonic played it with Leonard Bernstein conducting and playing the piano portion at the same time. I saw this on television when I was ten years old. Woody Allen used it in the first scenes of his movie “Manhattan.” I’m not absolutely sure if it was that movie or another one. But it was a beautiful thing to see.
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When Elvis Presley reached his peak of his popularity I wasn’t actually a teenager yet. I didn’t respond to him at all; I was aware, though, of his being on the Ed Sullivan show and the goings-on regarding his “suggestive body movements.” I just didn’t respond to what he had to offer. However, as an adult, for some reason I got a CD of all of his #1 hits. As I listened to this I was shocked and amazed in a good way. It’s true that, upon listening, he actually did bring a lot from his southern upbringing to us in the north. A first in music, no mistake about it. In his singing he sometimes sang with a sob or cry in his voice. I think in the past I viewed him as a kind of clown-like figure…all the girls screaming, the adults protesting. A circus act. But I was wrong. What a voice, and what a technique he had for putting the precise mood and feelings into the songs. “In The Ghetto” is one of my favorites of his; also “Kentucky Rain” plus “It’s Now Or Never.” There was nothing sexier than Elvis–on fire, demanding, pleading that “his love won’t wait.” I read a quote from Bob Dylan re: Elvis–“Listening to him was like breakin’ outta jail.”
lgmwriting 