I am constantly amazed at the sheer output of Antonin Dvorak. Music poured out of the man, and his gift for melodic drama set with wonderful orchestration never, ever fails to delight. Even so, I was unprepared for the degree to which this piece–which, to my knowledge, I had never heard before a couple weeks ago–forced its way into my imagination. It’s called The Golden Spinning Wheel, and it is based on a Czech folktale that was gathered into a book by Czech poet K.J. Erben. As folktales go, it’s pretty satisfyingly grim, with a young maiden capturing the heart of the king and being murdered by her evil stepmother for her troubles, only to be resurrected by a magician. You can read the entire tale here…but meanwhile, give a listen to Dvorak’s tone poem, which is thrilling and adventurous and romantic in all the wonderful meanings of the word. At times this work is so swashbuckling in its sound that you can practically see Errol Flynn, rapier in hand, as he disposes of the evil soldiers as he fights his way to his love’s side.
Music like this is what keeps me coming back to classical music, year in and year out. I hope you’ll give it a listen. Here is The Golden Spinning Wheel by Antonin Dvorak.
Well, it’s new to me, anyway. It’s not “new”. Blue Point Brewing of Long Island has been around since 1998, although now it’s a subsidiary of Anheuser-Busch. I’ve seen this label with its pleasant-looking fishing sign look in the beer section at The Store a few times, and this week I decided to give the Toasted Lager a try.
The word “toasted” puts me in mind of the first episode of Mad Men (the only episode I watched), when an ad executive in 1960-something (I think) is trying to come up with an ad campaign for a cigarette company, given that people are starting to suspect that cigarettes are actually very unhealthy. What he comes up with is to focus on the tobacco company’s production method of toasting the tobacco: “It’s toasted!“
Of course, this has nothing at all to do with the beer, which is so named apparently for the “toasted” nature of the brewery’s first kettle. They say there’s a blend of six “specialty malts” for a smooth drinking experience, but I don’t know about that. I can report that the beer is pleasant and easily quaffed. I’m probably not drinking this stuff in seasonably appropriate fashion; lagers like this should be consumed in the fading light of a summer evening, not a January in Buffalo. But it probably does just fine in washing down a plate of wings, so…yeah.
I’m sure you’ve often wondered: “Why sure, the main theme from Star Wars sounds great when played by a full symphony orchestra, but how does it work when scaled down to a string quartet?”
Buffalo Niagara is, admittedly, cloudier in general than I would like. But it’s not always like living under a gray bowl, and we get some very nice sunrises here.
This morning’s is a case in point. Geography puts the sunrise directly behind my workplace this time of year, and it can be a real delight.
The last few years I’ve adopted a self-challenge on Goodreads to keep my reading on track: 52 books a year. And I’ve been successful, so, yay, me! Reading is the creative center of a writer’s life. It’s fuel for stories, as much as food is for life. Writers who don’t read are kidding themselves.
Anyway, if you want to see the roster of everything I read in 2019, feel free to peruse my Goodreads shelf for 2019. It was a good year for reading, and I didn’t suffer through too many slumps last year, which was nice. “Reader’s Block” can be a deeply frustrating thing. Fortunately, that never happened to me in 2019. I was quite consistent.
You may note that almost every book has a rating of four stars or higher. The absolute lowest rating I will almost ever give a book is three stars, and that’s for a book that’s perfectly fine and unobjectionable. My reason for this is simple. No, I don’t love every book I read, but I only finish books I love and I only rate books I’ve finished. The books that I either dislike, or decide aren’t my cup of tea, or that I simply peter out on…these get set aside in favor of something else, and not rated. Many times I’ve “bounced off” a book at one time only to read it sometime later and have it become a beloved favorite, so I am generally loath to genuinely pan a book. It’s something I just don’t do very often.
Likewise, on Goodreads I often won’t even list a book under “Currently Reading” until I’m sure I’m going to finish it. This isn’t for appearances’ sake, since I use Goodreads mainly to track the books I’ve finished. Filling it up with all my various DNF’s doesn’t seem useful to me.
Finally, here are the cream of the crop, the very best books I read last year. I recommend each of these very highly! (Links are to my Goodreads reviews.)
These are just the books that stand out in my mind from 2019. In truth it was a wonderful year for my reading life, and if 2020 is half so good it will be a great year too. If you read anything really wonderful last year, by all means, let me know!
I suppose a “Back to basics” kind of thing is normal in January, isn’t it? Not so much a series of resolutions or a grand statement of intent to change my life, but there is most definitely a desire to clean things up a bit and to indulge a bit of simplicity.
In that vein I’ve been listening to a bit of Franz Joseph Haydn of late. Haydn’s reputation has taken a pretty dispiriting turn over the last few decades, it seems to me; he’s seen as a kindly old composer of nice, pleasant, and undemanding music. Haydn is Mozart without the fire, a placeholder to give us someone to talk about other than Mozart in the era between Bach and Beethoven. He’s referred to as “Papa” Haydn, and his symphonies often have cute nicknames: The “Clock” symphony, the “Surprise” symphony, and so on.
Well, to that I say nonsense, because in Haydn I find beauty and passion and the very best of the rationalism of the Classical era. I find formal perfection, structural amazement, and melodies that lodge in the ear with joyous aplomb. Returning to Haydn is like drinking clear, cool water after a long and difficult journey.
Here is the Overture in D Major by Franz Joseph Haydn. Notice how complete a journey he takes us on, all in the space of just under five minutes!
So, you may be wondering, how is Carla, our second dog, working out? Not that it matters, since she’s been living with us for more than three years now, but right now it looks like she’s fitting in just fine.
So a strange thing happened while I was writing my annual Year’s End Quiz for 2019. The last question of the quiz is “Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.” I always interpret this less as a song that has lyrics that can specifically capture a year, but rather a song whose emotional essence seems to me to align with the year that’s ending. I don’t usually have a problem with this, but for some reason, this year I did. I kept thinking that there should be an obvious song, one that was lurking somewhere just beyond the peripheries of my inner ear. It was pretty frustrating, I have to admit–and the song that I settled on, Queen’s “The Hero,” was a fine choice that really does capture a bit of how I feel about a year in which so many of my favorite stories all seemed to end.
And then today, while wandering around my shift at work, I had the ever-popular Ohhhhhh! moment, in which I realized what song I should have used.
I’ve known this song for many years, going all the way back to my high school years when I’d be with the jazz band playing standards from the Great American Songbook at town park dances and church festivals, which is why when I heard it in the context of a movie in 2019, it was…well, it’s one of the best uses of a great old song in a movie that I’ve ever heard. It comes, of course, at the very end of Avengers: Endgame, when Steve Rogers has finally laid aside his shield and is dancing with Peggy Carter just before the film fades out. Here is “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” by Kitty Kallen and the Harry James Orchestra.
Never thought that you would be
standing here so close to me
there’s so much I feel that I should say
but words can wait until some other day
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It’s been a long, long time
Haven’t felt like this, my dear
Since I can’t remember when
It’s been a long, long time
You’ll never know how many dreams
I’ve dreamed about you
Or just how empty they all seemed without you
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It’s been a long, long time
Ah, kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It’s been a long time
Haven’t felt like this my dear
Since I can’t remember when
It’s been a long, long time
You’ll never know how many dreams
I dreamed about you
Or just how empty they all seemed without you
So kiss me once then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It’s been a long, long time….
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ForgottenStars.net
The official site of Kelly Sedinger: Reader, writer, photographer, and dreamer
