#get a career as an interpreter + piano player

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Art Tatum :: Tenderly

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Song of the Day - “Tenderly”

70 years ago today, December 29th, 1953, the brilliant piano man Art Tatum had an impressive recording session.

Tatum, who was universally seen as a genius pianist, never seemed to have a successful career commercially. He always worked, and is cited by most every other piano player of the era as being a teacher and an inspiration. But he just never had a career commensurate with that stature.

Tatum also had a terribly unhealthy lifestyle, drinking vast quantities of beer while only exercising enough to get himself from one club to the next. By 1953, Tatum’s kidneys had started to fail.

But the smart impresario producer Norman Granz decided to do right by Tatum, by at least immortalizing him forever on record. He signed Tatum to one of his labels, Clef Records, and on December 29th, 1953, booked Tatum a studio, open-endedly, put a few cases of Pabst on ice, and told Tatum he wanted to record his entire repertoire… or really just whatever the heck Tatum felt like putting down. Tatum obliged with recording an astonishing sixty-nine acceptable tracks - by midday.

One of the tracks was this one, “Tenderly”, which was composed as a waltz by Water Gross, a pianist and a conductor at CBS Radio in the 30s and 40s. Years later, the lyricist Jack Lawrence added the lyrics. But Gross always said the song was meant as “pianistic” and that Tatum’s performance of it was/is the ultimate interpretation ever.

This is classic Art Tatum, who really may indeed “own” “Tenderly”…

The album Granz made out of this day of tracks recorded, was titled “Tenderly”… and the whole album is sublime, all standards… each one outdoing the last… On the other tracks, Granz added in sidefolk - some drums and bass… But “Tenderly” needed none…

[Thanks to Mary Elaine LeBey]

[taminoarticles]

— Tamino for Vogue Hommes, Spring / Summer 2019 (x)

Prince of Melancholy

By Sophie Rosemont / Photographed by Paolo Roversi / Styled by Anastasia Barbieri 

‘Let’s get together when there’s time,’ he says. ‘I’ve finally taken a break and just been to a week of fashion shows, so I am less anxious than usual’. When you have known the young man since his first EP was released, in 2017, you know he’s not exaggerating. The apparent serenity scarcely hides the tension, the tension of forward-thinking perfectionists, whilst allowing their talent to mature and develop.

Dark eyes, a tall slender figure and jet-black hair, Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad was born in Antwerp of a Belgian mother and Egyptian father. He doesn’t only reflect his mixed origins through his physique. In his music, he calls to mind a form of romantic rock influenced by Nick Cave (even though his high-pitched voice is more suggestive of Jeff Buckley or Thom Yorke) and the melodies of the ancestral East. His grandfather was none other than Moharam Fouad, nicknamed ‘the sound of the Nile’, an extremely popular singer and actor in Egypt. He died when Tamino was a little boy, but he profoundly inspired him: ‘I love his music. And I could identify with what I was told about him. He was obsessed by his work and never stopped singing.’

The artistic tastes of Tamino, who was so named as a tribute to the prince in Mozart’s Magic Flute, date from when he was very young. At the age of eight, he dreamt up a play and asked his little brother to play the main character: ‘I had a specific idea of what I wanted, and when he didn’t acquiesce, I flew into a rage. I was a little dictator! It was then that my parents realized that I had a strong interest in the arts, the theater, etc.’ His mother was a music-lover and always playing the piano. She initiated her son, who, after taking several classical lessons, quickly broke away from the classics: ‘I didn’t have the patience to learn the pieces as I was expected to. I wanted to interpret them differently. I admire the discipline of classical musicians, but my idea was to create a story and embody it, expressing what I wanted to say. It’s an experience. A song you like that transports you, instantly, is instinctive. You don’t know where it comes from. I don’t want to think of that too much when I’m composing, otherwise the spontaneity gets lost, and the pressure rises.’   

After his secondary schooling, he headed to Amsterdam to attend the conservatory there, as it had a reputation for being open-minded. Alone in the Dutch city where he didn’t know a soul, he composed a number of songs in his room. Once they were shared on the Internet, the buzz was such that he went back to Belgium to devote himself to his career. He had offers to perform on stage, on the radio, was invited to appear on TV and given front-row seats at runway shows. No one could resist his young leading man looks straight out of The Arabian Nights. The title of his first album Amir, actually means ‘prince’ in Arabic. Radiohead’s eminent bass player, Colin Greenwood, stars on ‘Indigo Night’ and was one of Tamino’s earliest fans. ‘Habibi,’ with its twilit mood, was an instant hit that revealed his talent for soft velvet folk.

The twelve songs on Amir, recorded with an orchestra of Tunisian, Iraqi and Syrian musicians, speak as much of love as of solitude, sensuality and contemplation, rather like those of Leonard Cohen. ‘He’s the ultimate model, a high-flying poet,’ he sighs. ‘Even though he was a passionate person, he never tried to alter his destiny, he remained elegant whatever the occasion. And, at 80, he was still recording superb albums.’ Tamino also calls to mind Nick Cave, for the corrosive, contagious tenor of his style of rock, but not just that: ‘When he gets up in the morning and puts a suit on. Whether it’s to rehearse, go on stage or get a coffee, he is always impeccably dressed.’ Rather like Tamino, in a more urbane, more understated, style. Tamino’s favorite color is black, which is at the same time romantic, gothic, minimalist, and adaptable, which he likes. 

When you meet him on a cold Paris Fashion Week Saturday, he is trying clothes on at his compatriot Ann Demeulemeester’s, who also dresses Patti Smith and PJ Harvey. ‘With Ann, I understood that a garment could be the extension of who you are, that comfort didn’t exclude the singularity of a look. Today, my creativity varies according to what I’m wearing.’ For Tamino, music inspires fashion and vice versa. ‘A fabric, a cut, an attitude can bring a melody to life. The correspondence between the two seems obvious to me.’ That said, he is far from being obsessed about his appearance. At the moment, he spends his days on the road to promote Amir. Whereas he doesn’t compose when he’s on tour, he reads Dostoyevsky, and the Lebanese poet, Khalil Gibran, whom he quotes: ‘In depth of my soul there is / A wordless song – a song that lives / In the seed of my heart’ (from ‘Song of the Soul’, 1912). Perhaps a way for Tamino to assert his need to be alone, which is vital to him when he is composing, providing a space for him to exercise his love of words. ‘Even if at first I think about the melodies and the orchestration,’ he says, ‘I can’t imagine that a song doesn’t convey a message, or at least a feeling, that it is empty.’ He hasn’t discarded his childhood dream of being an actor, but says that if he had to take a break from music for a film shoot, the role would really have to be worthwhile.

When asked for what his definition of elegance is, he answers immediately: ‘Being kind to others, respectful, while at the same time being sure of who you are. Recently, I met Yohji Yamamoto. He’s an example of this. He is kind to everyone, relaxed, yet never leaves anything to chance.’ The same chance, or destiny, mektoub in Arabic, that has cast its benign light on Tamino. 

[dorischiangca]

Unlock Your Musical Potential: Expert Piano Lessons in Brea

Learning to play the piano is a rewarding experience that offers numerous benefits, from enhancing cognitive skills to providing a creative outlet for self-expression. If you’re in Brea and looking to master the art of piano playing, Doris Chiang's piano lessons offer the perfect opportunity to embark on this musical journey.

Why Choose Piano Lessons?

Piano lessons are not just for those who aspire to become concert pianists. They are for anyone who loves music and wants to develop a deeper understanding of it. Here are some compelling reasons to take up piano lessons:

Enhance Cognitive Skills: Learning to play the piano engages both hemispheres of the brain, enhancing memory, concentration, and problem-solving skills. Improve Coordination: Playing the piano requires coordination between the hands and the eyes, which improves motor skills and hand-eye coordination. Reduce Stress: Music has a therapeutic effect. Playing the piano can be a great stress reliever and a way to unwind.

Boost Confidence: As you progress and master new pieces, your confidence and sense of achievement grow.

Enjoy a Lifelong Skill: Piano playing is a skill that you can enjoy throughout your life, providing endless joy and satisfaction.

Why Choose Doris Chiang for Piano Lessons in Brea?

Doris Chiang is an experienced and passionate piano teacher dedicated to helping students of all ages and skill levels achieve their musical goals. Here’s why Doris Chiang's piano lessons stand out:

Customized Lesson Plans: Doris understands that each student is unique. She tailors her lessons to match individual learning styles, goals, and preferences.

Comprehensive Curriculum: Whether you’re a beginner or an advanced player, Doris offers a comprehensive curriculum that covers all aspects of piano playing, from basic techniques to advanced theory and performance.

Experienced Instructor: With years of experience in teaching and performing, Doris brings a wealth of knowledge and expertise to her lessons.

Encouraging Environment: Doris creates a positive and encouraging learning environment where students feel comfortable and motivated to learn.

Flexible Scheduling: Understanding the busy schedules of her students, Doris offers flexible lesson times to accommodate everyone.

What to Expect from Piano Lessons with Doris Chiang

When you enroll in piano lessons with Doris Chiang, you can expect a well-rounded musical education that covers various aspects of piano playing and music theory.

Beginner Lessons

For beginners, lessons focus on the fundamentals:

Basic Techniques: Learn proper hand positioning, finger techniques, and posture. Reading Music: Understand how to read sheet music, including notes, rhythms, and dynamics. Simple Pieces: Start with simple pieces to build confidence and foundational skills. Intermediate Lessons For intermediate students, lessons become more challenging:

Advanced Techniques: Explore more complex finger techniques and hand coordination. Music Theory: Dive deeper into music theory to understand the structure of compositions. Repertoire Expansion: Learn and perform a variety of musical pieces from different genres and periods. Advanced Lessons Advanced students receive specialized instruction:

Performance Skills: Focus on performance techniques, expression, and stage presence. Complex Pieces: Tackle challenging compositions that require a high level of skill and interpretation.

Exam and Competition Preparation: Receive guidance and preparation for music exams and competitions.

Success Stories

Many of Doris Chiang's students have gone on to achieve remarkable success in their musical journeys. From winning competitions to pursuing music degrees, Doris’s teaching has helped shape the careers of many aspiring pianists.

How to Get Started

Starting your piano lessons with Doris Chiang is easy. Simply visit her website, Doris Chiang Piano Lessons, to learn more about her teaching philosophy, read testimonials, and book your first lesson.

Conclusion

Embarking on the journey of learning to play the piano is an exciting and fulfilling experience. With Doris Chiang's expert piano lessons in Brea, you have the opportunity to unlock your musical potential and achieve your goals. Whether you’re a beginner or an advanced player, Doris's customized approach and supportive teaching style will help you succeed. Don’t wait any longer—start your musical journey today and discover the joy of playing the piano with Doris Chiang.

[tonalartmusic]

Why Choosing Guitar Classes is an Excellent Idea?

Hiring a professional tutor for Violin Lessons For Adults Near Me is very advised if you want to become technically excellent in guitar playing.

While most self-taught guitarists will undoubtedly dismiss the concept, practicing with a guitar coach can provide various benefits. You may be unaware, but some of the top guitarists in the field of music have taken professional tuition at some time in their careers.

Of course, some people are uncomfortable with the idea of working with a teacher. Others may be reluctant to enroll in a class because they cannot afford the costs and time needed to finish a course. Despite this, it has been demonstrated that individuals that try to take guitar instruction progress faster than their classmates.

Consider this: even the best athlete in a particular sport or the most intellectual student in the school requires the direction of coaches and teachers. In the same vein, Guitar Classes Near Me can be of great assistance to you as a musician.

Your instructor for Beginner Piano Lessons For Adults could offer comments, pointing out areas of strength that you may be unaware of. They will also discover and educate you how to get around your shortcomings and undesirable behaviors as a player. In addition, you will be given listening tasks and additional duties between courses. If you have any queries about how to choose the correct instruments, your instructor is a great resource. Are you nervous about an impending live performance? Your teacher can also provide you with pointers. Simply said, your guitar skills, knowledge, and confidence will increase faster than you could ever dream on your own.

Selecting a teacher with the appropriate level of expertise and skill is essential if you want to get the most out of your classes. Whenever meeting or approaching potential tutors, ask plenty of questions. Tell them what type of music you would like to learn. Inquire about their previous experience as guitarists. Inquire about their fees and anything else that piques your curiosity.

Guitar mastery is not an unachievable objective if you are ready to pay the price. Private Guitar Lessons For Beginners are an excellent investment, particularly if you are passionate about following your musical goals. Your family, friends, and bandmates will be astounded as never before.

There are many methods to play the guitar. If you intend to engage a tutor, you must be willing to shell out a significant sum of money for the class because it may be costly. Another option for getting Clarinet Lessons Near Me is to utilize online resources. You would be surprised at how many guitar aficionados will share free tips, lessons, and pictorial guidance on how to play the guitar. To take benefit of these activities, you must first purchase a guitar and afterwards search online for guitar lessons with Singing Classes Near Me.

To effectively learn how to play the guitar, it is necessary to be patient as well as grasp the notes. Since music interpretation is a standard, this course will be essential.

[project-offline]

Taylen

It Starts With Hello

Taylen’s point of view on how she met this person.

Normally here in the interviews I will conduct, I would begin by saying how I met this person. Although I feel that “of course I’ve known myself for my entire life”, I feel as though I still have some growing to do with learning different parts about myself and hobbies that I still have yet to discover. Instead, I want to share an excerpt from my diary in 2019, where I visualized different aspects of myself in the form of various ghost-like figures.

Taylen that Everyone Knows: Wants to be everyone’s friend, gives you the biggest smile.

Coach Taylen: The cool coach on the pool deck that can’t be bothered when wearing sunglasses.

Studious Taylen: Always in the zone and pushes up her imaginary glasses (cause she doesn’t have any glasses).

Hipster Taylen: Really loves music and has an interesting sense of style.

Friendly Taylen: Kind of rare, but if you break her shell then she shines.

Taylen that Only Taylen Knows: Quiet, shy and quite introverted actually.

This or That

You can only choose one…

Salty or Sweet

Winter or Summer

Air Guitar or Air Drums

Coffee or Tea

Dogs or Cats // I love dogs, but cats have been pretty special to me lately

Sleeping or Eating

Five Facts of Fun

What are 5 facts about yourself?

I am a former competitive swimmer and water polo player. This past summer I won a gold medal at our regional championship! I also coach and teach younger swimmers about the sport!

I know how to play about 7 different instruments and I’ve played piano for 12 years before I stopped to pursue other passions. Slowly I am trying to get back into music with posting more covers on social media.

Crocs are my go-to shoes for the past few years and I highly recommend on the pool deck. I’ve slipped and had some pretty bad falls from other shoes, but I have not slipped once with crocs #sportsmode

If there’s a hobby has any creative elements, I’m willing to try it!

In my opinion, pineapple does belong on pizza.

Drop a Bop

Pick a song that is the theme song to your life and discuss why.

I think I found this song on the radio and I was like, “Yes. This is it. This is my theme song.” This song is always my pick-me-up when I need a mood booster and I think it’s also quite catchy. With the lyrics, I like to interpret it as that sometimes people always see what you are capable of until you shine in that spotlight. It’s then people can see how much skill or “power” you hold and that yeah… maybe you are dangerous…

Debate Time

What is your perspective on the following question: Is the ocean soup?

Yes the ocean is soup. It’s got the veggies of seaweed, it’s got the protein of the fish and other species. It’s in a body of water. Mmmm, soup.

Some Deeper Small Talk

Chosen from a group of questions, the person answered the following question: What have I accomplished recently that would have shocked me a year ago?

I’m going to change this question to “What would have shocked me 5 years ago?”. 5 years ago, I was wrapping up high school and getting ready to start university. At the time, I quit my coaching job with competitive swimming and thought that I would just think about finding my way with pursuing something within my career after that and I would not really return back to sports again after quitting my personal journey a couple years prior. It wasn’t really until my time with reconnections with people I knew within the sports I played that they talked me back into coaching with teams based in other cities from my hometown. At the time I was hesitant, but I knew that with the qualifications that I already had from the past that I knew I was already more than capable to take on the job. Flash forward to 5 years later, I’m still coaching and just wrapped up a busy competitive summer season. Though in taking these jobs and switching to a couple of new teams, these experiences helped me grow as a person and as a coach; largely from the people I’ve met and the opportunities that I’ve now experienced. Sometimes it’s worth taking the chance and I think if I told myself in the past where I am now, she would be incredibly shocked at how far we have come so far.

The Final Spotlight

If you had the final opportunity to say anything to the world, what would you say?

Things can change very quickly and can happen unexpectedly, so live in the moment, appreciate what you currently have and enjoy it while you can.

[pop-culturereference]

WOW sometimes I hate my teaching classes

[yuki-tsunodas]

The Player's Tribune: I will never forget the tears I shed that day

Article published 25 March 2021, originally written by Yuki Tsunoda in Japanese.

I translated the article with help from Google Translate and Naver Translator + my own interpretations of their rubbish translating, so apologies in advance for any mistakes! Anything I had trouble translating will be bolded with a (?) next to it!!

　I think that was the last time I cried in frustration, in regret.

　Four years ago, I was only 16 years old and was a student at Suzuka Circuit Racing School. It was the final selection to join Honda's Driver Development Program. If I pass, I can run in Japanese F4 the following year, but if I failed...I was thinking of quitting racing at that time.

　Now, I'm standing at the entrance of the stage called F1. Looking back, that was the turning point of my life.

　Of course, I didn't know if I would pass that year's trial because there were not only those who had already run in F4 but also some drivers who had come back from overseas.

　However, I've been racing in karts since I was four years old, and I've been doing well. That year, I was the youngest ever podium finisher in my debut race in the Japanese F4 championship, which allowed me to participate in the spot (?) race, and won the Super FJ Japan's first championship. At the selection test, there were good results until the final round of selection, and I was in a position to compete for first and second place overall. So I thought I could afford to make a big mistake in the final selection, and I was confident that I would still be in the top two in the end.

　I am a strong driver. But if you can't get results here or if you can't fascinate the judges with your running, it's already known (?). So I was prepared to give up my racing career if it didn't work. I think there were many other routes to go, such as running in other training programs or non-formal races, but I don't like it when it's not the direction I want to go. I decided to live a different life rather than to do it half-heartedly.

　However, the worst result awaited. At that time, I was very weak mentally and, of all things, it showed in the final round. Even before the race, I found myself tense and stiff. My fingertips were also stiff. I was not my usual self. I started like that, but suddenly I was flying...I had to drive through the pitlane and then rejoin the course. I felt like I was running alone, far away from the previous group. I felt sorry for myself, and I didn't even feel like running anymore. As a result, the points in that race were almost zero, and Tsunoda lost in the final round.

　I was so frustrated that tears welled up naturally on the train home. It was the first time since I started racing in earnest. I was the youngest among the participants, but I was shocked because I was confident that I wouldn't lose, and I couldn't imagine anything even if I tried to think about the future. I still remember clearly that I was so depressed that I didn't even want to see my parents on my way home from the Shinkansen.

　But there was only one faint hope. That was what the then Honda F4 coach said in an interview after the screening.

　"As a training driver for Honda, you will not be able to participate in the race next year, since the Formula 4 Honda has four cars. Maybe I can put you in one of the remaining two cars running as Suzuka Racing School."

　That was because former Formula One driver Satoru Nakajima recommended me. Mr. Nakajima was the principal of the school at that time, and at the time of the final selection, he was watching us run in the final chicane.

　I was given a penalty at the start, and I was racing without emotion, but I was running hard so that I wouldn't regret it. Through the visor, I saw Satoshi Nakajima standing in the final corner. I didn't want to show Mr. Nakajima a careless run. It was a hopeless ranking, but I thought I should not give up until the end and keep running toward the group in front of me. Then the road opened.

　In 2017, Suzuka Racing decided to enter me into F4 instead of making me a training driver. Then, I suddenly ranked 3rd overall in the annual overall ranking, and the following year in 2018, I was selected as a Honda Formula Dream Project driver, and was able to become the champion.

　It's all because I was frustrated at that final selection.

　The most unusual thing is that I think it's mental. Until I had a setback, I had a feeling that I would do well until the end without doing anything. I knew I wasn't good at starting even though I failed in the previous round, and I had time to practice before that, but I didn't. There was something sweet about overconfidence. And at that time, I was afraid of making mistakes, so I didn't know how to grow up.

　After failing the selection, I realized that I was still not perfect and that I had to be faster. I realized that it is important to make a lot of mistakes without fear of making mistakes, and to make new discoveries and grow from there. Therefore, I didn't feel impatient when I didn't get points as I wanted in the early part of the F3 and F2 seasons last year after I went abroad. Rather, there was no hesitation in the process of making a lot of mistakes first and learning a lot from them.

　Takuma Sato, a former Formula One driver, now driving in Indycar, is famous for saying, "No attack, no chance," but I think that's exactly right. If you don't try beyond the limits of any sport, you won't find the future, and if you don't try, you'll stop there. Therefore, even if there are times when I make mistakes or get no results, I don't feel strangely distressed. Even if you make a mistake, it's up to you to take it. Mistakes make me want to investigate the cause. If you think that you can overcome it, you can be faster than if you regret the mistake, and you can always face it positively.

　Now that I can race in F1, I feel grateful to my parents. I've liked to move since I was a child, and I played swimming, soccer, mountain biking, and also, not sports, but piano. Now that I think about it, I feel that my father and mother were letting me do what I was interested in. And the reason why I started driving karts was also influenced by my father. My father liked motorsports and played gym carna himself. One day, at the circuit venue I was taken to, I was allowed to drive a real cart. That was the first time. Actually, I also experienced a pocket bike at that time, but after trying two, I said, "The kart is more fun." I don't really remember at all (lol).

　But there were times I got sick of karts...

　For example, when I was about seven years old. When I was playing a game while waiting at the track, my father told me to "focus more on the race," and my game was taken away, and I felt like, "I don't like it anymore." Then my father became getting tougher and tougher on me to improve me, and he scolded me for many things. To be honest, I didn't really appreciate my father until I was 15, and there was a time when I hated him. 'This is "The Rebellion Period".' I think I was in the middle of it.

　Not only my father but also my mother was strict in terms of academic matters. I was always told to study in case I didn't succeed in motorsports. My junior high school was not a public school (?), so after the race, I would go home on the day, get ready for school, go to school, study, and take the test. To be honest, it was hard and I never liked it, but I continued to study anyway.

　At that time, I couldn't thank my parents, but now I have the opposite feelings. I think I am what I am now thanks to their harshness, scolding, and teaching me a lot of things back then. Thank you so much.

　I didn't expect to be able to get to F1 this quickly. Not only are there few Japanese drivers, but they are also those taking the shorter route compared to foreign drivers.

　When I first went to see F1 at Fuji Speedway at the age of seven, Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso were running. At that time, I wasn't longing for it, but I thought "I wanted to race with drivers like this someday", and those feelings are still the same. Hamilton is already a legend, and it's an honor to run with him, but when I get on the circuit, both Hamilton and Alonso are just drivers. Think of them as enemies.

　It's the same for Max Verstappen, who I think is the fastest and strongest opponent in Formula One, and Pierre Gasly, who's my teammate in Alpha Tauri. I want to know as soon as possible how well I can handle Verstappen and how well I can compete. Gasly was active in Japan's top-category, Super Formula, when I was running in Japanese F4, and I hope I can learn a lot of things from him, but I think he's also my biggest rival that I have to beat someday because we're in the same machine.

　'In the world of F1, "speed" is ultimately required.' No matter how fast you say you are, if you show off your speed, you can make an impact, and if you have speed, you can get back in front in the second half even if you were overtaken or separated from the pack in the beginning of the race. However, it is actually the most difficult to show "speed" in a situation like this. My biggest strength is speed, so in addition to that, I want to learn more of what I lack.

　Come to think of it, at an online conference held this off-season, my goal came out big like, "I'll be a Formula One champion more than seven times, the most ever tied," but that's not what I meant.

　I haven't done a single race in Formula One yet, so I can't say that (bitter smile).

　What I'm thinking about right now is to give the best performance I have in the first race, and to get as many points as possible throughout the season. Just like F2, even if you go up to F1, you will make a lot of mistakes from the beginning to the middle of the season, but I want to learn a lot by making new discoveries there. After saying such a thing at the press conference, there was a question like, "What is Tsunoda's ambition?" So I replied, "Maybe I'll win the championship seven times like Lewis Hamilton?" which became a big headline.To be exact, I really want to concentrate on everything in front of me now, and I hope that my ambition will come true as a result of that accumulated effort.

　What kind of scene will I see in the future? I want to improve my ability and become a race driver representing the F1 world, and I think it will be a different pressure and motivation, so the expectations of the fans may be even higher.

　That's why I want to never forget how I felt when I drove in Formula One for the first time in 2021. I want to cherish the current feelings of a rookie and continue to make mistakes to my heart's content, learn a lot from them, and enjoy them.

　I don't think I'll shed tears like I did four years ago in the final selection. I will never forget the tears I shed that day. But if I were to cry from now on, what kind of tears would I have...?

　I think it's realistic to say when I first win the championship. It's very difficult to get to Formula One, but it's going to be a tough road ahead. It's really hard to win, so if I'm going to shed tears, it's probably not "regretful tears" but "happy tears".

[samnyangie]

Since people liked rsl interview on dps, I’d like to share one of my favourite interview by him. I think it’s one of those rare interview where he wasn’t joking around that much but discuss acting quite seriously haha

So enjoy:DD

(Credit)

____________________________

1990 New York Times

Young Actor's Life Has the Makings of a Movie

by Lynn Mautner

New York Times

May 20, 1990

It would make a good movie. A 15-year-old sophomore at Ridgewood High School is playing the Artful Dodger in the musical ''Oliver'' with the school's theater group, New Players, when he is discovered by a casting agency secretary and whisked off to Broadway and the movies.

That's exactly what happened to Robert Sean Leonard, now 21, and a star of the 1989 film ''Dead Poets Society,'' which received an Oscar for best original screenplay.

''My mother took me to New Players' summer performances when I was 10,'' he said, ''and I loved the camaraderie of people, rehearsing and singing. I began spending more time there, painting signs and moving furniture, and soon became an element of the company, with small roles in 'The Miracle Worker,' 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,' 'Barnum.' ''

Starting as an understudy for three roles at the New York Public Theater (he never got on stage), Mr. Leonard amassed credits that include ''The Beach House'' with George Grizzard for the Circle Repertory Theater, television movies, ''Brighton Beach Memoirs'' and ''Breaking the Code'' on Broadway, plays at the West Bank Cafe on 42d Street and the recent ''When She Danced'' at Playwrights Horizons.

He has just completed a part as Paul Newman's and Joanne Woodward's son in the movie ''Mr. and Mrs. Bridge,'' filmed in Kansas City, to be released in August. ''I age from a 15-year-old Eagle Scout to 22, coming home from World War II with a mustache,'' Mr. Leonard said.

Mr. Leonard, who received a general equivalency diploma when he was 17, lives in New York City and attends Fordham University between performances. Soon to return from the Cannes Film Festival with his fellow actors in ''Dead Poets,'' he is next scheduled to go into rehearsal for the film ''Married to It,'' a romantic comedy.

Q. Do you remember when you decided on an acting career?

A. I never decided to pursue an acting career. It just has happened. I still think it's going to stop and I'll have to get a real job soon, but I'm afraid to question it because if I do, it will disappear.

Q. How do you think your theater experience in high school has helped you?

A. It was a great teaching experience that prepared me in a lot of ways. We did 10 shows in 10 weeks, so there was no time to think about method. It was running for the stage, hoping you'll make it in time for your entrance. In Steven Soderbergh's new book of his diaries when directing the film ''Sex, Lies and Videotape,'' he said that on a film set there should always be a chain of command, but never a chain of respect.

At New Players, those three to four years, everyone was given the same respect. You had to, because you'd be the lead one week and painting sets the next. That's a luxury that is not available in New York, unfortunately, because of the unions. You're an actor and that's it.

Q. Have you taken any acting lessons? Do you recommend them for others?

A. I've taken two classes - a video acting class to help me get from stage to film, with Marty Winkler, currently my manager, and an acting class at H. B. Studios.

Acting classes are tricky. It's like asking someone in therapy if they'd recommend going to a psychiatrist. For some people it's great; for some it's not necessary; for some it's harmful. The best way to learn acting is just to do it.

There's a danger to the classroom, because it's safe, and you can get addicted to it. The clique of people are there, and you might tend to remain with them and never go out on your own. So it can give you the safety net which can eventually strip away your courage to go out and really try. On the other hand, you can get a wonderful teacher who brings out the best in you and gives you the courage to go out and dazzle everybody.

Q. You went from high school to Off Broadway. What were your feelings and fears during your first professional performance?

A. The first time I performed in New York - in ''Sally's Gone, She Left Her Name'' - I played Michael Learned's son. I think I was too young. I wasn't even aware of reasons to be afraid. I was just there for the fun of it. Fresh out of New Players, I knew it to be fun. I've never worried about lines. In ''Brighton Beach'' I should have been tense, because it was Broadway. I was nervous, but not racked - more excited.

Q. What do you enjoy most about acting?

A. The people, and opportunities to learn, to travel, both physically and emotionally. To look at people other than myself and try to figure out what makes them tick.

Olivier said you never play a villain; you play a man considered to be a villain; that you have to justify everything he does first; you have to know that what you are doing is right and find a way to make it right - even murder.

I just played a conceited piano player in ''When She Danced,'' and I had to figure out what would make a person be conceited and make that O.K. with me. I learned where conceit comes from - from confidence and talent.

Worst thing you can do is play someone and judge him at the same time, saying: ''Here I am. I am so conceited.'' First you have to understand why you're that way so that people interpret you as conceited.

Q. Do you consider acting an escape?

A. I don't look at performing as escaping, as really becoming another person and leaving my problems for two hours, so I don't have to deal with me, because I don't become another person. I work, so that when I am working, in a way it is me at my best. I'm not leaving myself; in fact, I'm more focused on myself than ever. I don't become that person, but I fully understand him, fully explore him, as to why he does what he does and justify it.

You can't play a fool to play Bottom, who's the opposite of fool in Shakespeare's ''Midsummer Night's Dream.'' What makes people fools is that they're completely confident in what they're doing. They don't think they're fools; they think they're right on track, which makes them so funny and makes them look like fools.

Q. Who influenced you the most?

A. I have not had one person or experience that stands out that's a turning point. Every step in acting relies heavily on the one before. Everything I've learned colors everything I have known before, and suddenly changes it.

I have learned a little bit from everyone I have known, whether about acting itself, or living and working as an actor. Like a good detective novel, for every clue that is solved, two more appear. Every time I learn something, it opens two other doors. In ''Dead Poets,'' the rooftop scene, where I throw the desk set off, was improvised. Are instincts then a part of acting?

Q. Are there desirable qualities to have as an actor?

A. Concentration, perseverence, lack of inhibitions. There's no room for self-consciousness on stage. Also, there is an element in acting that is not fair. Whatever talent is, part of it can be learned and part can't. There are people that audiences like to watch or don't. In Soderbergh's book, he says that talent plus perseverance will equal luck. But I don't know what talent is; it is beyond definition.

Q. Do you learn by watching other films and plays? Your own? Other people?

A. Sometimes I watch for directing; sometimes for performing. There are lines in ''Dead Poets'' I would do differently, if given the chance. For example, Todd said: ''You talk and people listen to you, Neil. I am not like that.'' I answer, ''Don't you think you could be?'' I think I could have made it clearer. I don't get much from observing strangers, because although I see what they do, I don't know where they're coming from.

Q. What are the main differences between stage and film work?

A. I feel that as an actor, you should start in theater, to learn the process of creating a character, in rehearsal. Film is an arena for people who already know that, because on the set they expect you to know the character inside out.

Film work is harder, because this tangible part has to happen in your head before filming takes place. And it's more solitary. You create your character alone, without the give-and-take of other actors.

Q. What tips would you give young, aspiring actors?

A. Read plays aloud with friends at home; do any work you can do in high school. Hang out with jocks, leatherheads, and see what makes them work. Don't be a theater rat and only talk to actors. Read a lot. You really have to feel it; really want it; then take it. Don't take no for an answer. Seize the day.

___________________________

There’s another one I really want to share as well, I’ll bring it with me at some point:))

[mkstrigidae]

This might be a lot since there’s so many characters in APWH, but could you share something secret about each character that no one else knows or maybe just a fun fact?

I am so sorry I’m answering this so late- I try not to be a human disaster, but inevitably end up being one most days.

Oooooooh this one is very interesting- they might not all be secrets, because for some characters, that would be giving away major plot points, but fun facts I can do! Let’s see what I’ve got (below the cut):

Robb: Has definitely licked a bone on a dare before, is actually a decent artist (much like Sansa) and does a fair amount of sketching in the field, and has an engagement ring for Tal in his work locker that no one knows about yet :) Inherited Catelyn’s ability for leadership, and is really good at dealing with Logistics, management, and the bureaucracy involved in his job. Hangs out with the experimental archeology students a lot (he’s like the accidental older brother for half the department) and would definitely wear handmade linen armor from someone’s project and let an undergrad shoot arrows at him to test it. (For those of you unaware, linen armor is next to impossible to cut without an extremely specific and sharp type of electric saw). Is good friends with Sarella, who’s going through grad school in Oldtown as well. Has been reluctantly dragged into the feud between the archaeology/anthropology and paleontology departments.

Aegon: is a fairly talented piano player, has always liked to cook, but got really good at it when he was dating an adjunct professor in grad school (none of his family knows about the relationship, but Theon does). Has been taking night classes recently to try and learn the Old Tongue bc he and Lyanna are particularly close. Dates casually, and volunteers at a community center for at-risk kids in Kings Landing on weekends. Is the only Targ sibling emotionally aware enough to spend time with Viserys, and is his grandmother Rhaella’s favorite.  

Rhae: Actually really likes listening to heavy metal, especially when she’s working, and is really into the Westerosi equivalent of late night comedy. Will get really invested in hobbies for like, a few months and then move on to something completely different. Is her grandfather Aerys’ favorite, and has him wrapped around her finger. Makes a game of antagonizing Viserys at Targ family functions, and has been inseparable from Margaery since they met in college. Thought her cousin Obara was the coolest person in the world when she was a kid. Most likely of all the characters to do a triathlon without breaking a nail.

Bran: Might be one sociology class away from identifying as an anarchist. Kind of wants to be a professor and will probably write novels someday. Is really into flea markets and will go antiquing with Ned and Elia and sometimes Cat. Loves kayaking and decorates his wheelchair elaborately for holidays. He’s won several costume contests at school for it. Very snarky. If Sansa had been raised by the starks, they would have had a standing Saturday lunch date to snark and gossip about the rest of the fam.

Jon: wanted to be a forest ranger for the longest time and then a writer, but felt like he had to choose a more reputable career, and is kind of jealous that Robb decided to say ‘fuck it’ and become an archaeologist. Really wants to travel, although he picked law after His Valyrian is passable (the targ sibs spoke it anytime they were with Rhaegar and fam), but he speaks Rhoynish fluently and is close to his cousins on the Martell side of the family. Really likes hiking and will often go with Cat, who is also fairly outdoorsy. Likes epic high fantasy novels and would really love LOTR.

Mya: is weirdly into dream interpretation, is bisexual, and has fallen into one of the canals in Braavos before on a school field trip. She was born in the Vale, and her mom moved to Braavos when she was five. Would definitely eat a bug on a dare. More tomboy than anything, but really enjoys getting dressed up and being feminine. Likes painting her nails fun colors. Who gives a shit about gender expectations? Not Mya.

Sansa: the first person she kisses in APWH isn’t going to be Jon…;) If she’d been raised by the Starks, she might have gone to school for journalism or become a novelist. Hates math, but is a passable accountant because of what Baelish taught her to help him with the books for his restaurants. Doesn’t like to ever wear her hair down, and has a collection of decorative bobby pins for updos that she’s acquired from flea markets in Braavos. Really loves to swim. Pushed the boy who knocked Mya into the canal in after her, but none of the teachers believe him when he accuses her, because it’s sweet, kind, well-behaved Sansa.

Robin: Secretly likes to listen to musicals and is a fairly good singer. In a group chat with Doree and Loree who are drastically improving his social skills and the three of them are parent-trap level plotting. Really dislikes doctors and hospitals. Used to ask Sansa to draw birds for him a lot when he was younger and still has most of them.

Rickon: is actually better with computers and smarter than anyone realizes, because he’s such a jock on the surface. Very used to going with the flow and adapting to change. His favorite classes are chemistry and bio, but he doesn’t really like writing. Is really popular and well-liked among his classmates, but can have a temper when he thinks an injustice is occurring. Is generally just good with animals.

Catelyn: Grew up going hunting with her uncle and always had a stronger stomach for it than Lysa and Edmure did. Is half-estranged from her father because of a disagreement they had regarding Catelyn’s inability to move on after the kidnapping, and a tense relationship with her brother after he married Roslyn Frey (The Freys were vocal supporters of Roose Bolton’s politics and had a hand in publicizing the rumors about the Starks being responsible for Sansa’s disappearance- Walder Frey owns several prominent southern newspapers), but they’re working on mending fences. Takes fairly long walks outside regularly, and would be a bruce springsteen fan. The most intimidating of the entire family.

Arya: Went through a true crime phase. Really enjoys learning languages, her favorite classes this past semester were her Ancient Ghiscari course and her global politics seminar, because they got to debate current issues every week. Like Sansa, she really likes people-watching. Will probably end up at the Olympics for fencing at some point, but was also a sprinter in high school on the track team.

Ned: Probably dropped acid at least once in college. Really enjoys skiing. Learned how to play the guitar as a part of his midlife crisis. Met Cat after she went on two dates with his brother Brandon and they decided they were better as friends. Brandon brought her to a party, and Ned ended up giving her a ride home after his brother found another girl to chat up. They quickly found out that they had a lot in common, and she got along famously with his mother, who Ned was extremely close to. Has a serious sweet tooth

Elia: Likes to paint, but doesn’t think she’s very good at it. Grew up speaking Rhoynish with her family, and taught it to the kids. Has forgotten more about art than most people will ever know, and is extremely efficient when set loose in a flea market. Really likes theater and ballet, and took ballet classes through college.

Lyanna: is working on a book about money in Westerosi politics that’s tied into her current investigation of the Boltons, but only Elia knows about it. Grew up far north, and her first language was the Old tongue rather than Andali, but didn’t want her kids picking it up, because the accent is stigmatized. Keeps notes for her articles in the Old Tongue to keep her nosy kids from reading them.

Theon: Is doing a psychiatry residency in King’s Landing currently. Does a fair amount of biking, and 100% does a polar bear swim in the ocean every winter (Aegon always shows up to cheer him on and they go out for drinks afterwards- his girlfriend, Jeyne, thinks this is insane). Refuses to eat blue foods and was actually a decent French horn player in high school.

Thank you- this was a fun one!! :)

[passionate-reply]

I don’t often devote entire videos to EPs, but in this case it felt like the thing to do. Futurisk were a synth-punk band from Florida, of all places, and in the span of their incredibly brief career, they only produced a single album: the 1982 EP Player Piano. Find out what makes it tick and why it gave this short-lived group a slice of immortality. (Full transcript below the break!)

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! While I don’t often discuss shorter works like EPs in this format, I’ll be making an exception in the case of Futurisk’s Player Piano, first released in 1982.

The main reason I’ve chosen to highlight Player Piano is that it’s the closest thing to a full-length release that Futurisk ever got to make. They were a remarkably short-lived outfit, defunct by the mid-1980s after releasing only Player Piano in ‘82 and one seven-inch single in 1980.

Music: “What We Have to Have”

The ostensible A-side of Futurisk’s lone single, “What We Have to Have” is perhaps the track that most betrays their obvious influences. Clocking in at exactly two minutes and jumping right into the fray, “What We Have to Have” is a perfect punk song, right down to the way vocalist Jeremy Kolosine skips right over those “H’s” like a smooth stone on a still pond. Despite the perhaps overbearing British influence on their work, Futurisk actually hailed from America--South Florida to be precise. In a lot of ways, it’s perhaps unsurprising that their days numbered so short: both brashly neurotic synth as well as punk *qua* punk were enjoying their brief moments of wider popularity in the early 80s, and those flickers of interest proved even shorter among American audiences. While it’s easy to imagine a more traditional version of “What We Have to Have,” dispensing with the electronics in favour of guitars, the single’s flip side, “Army Now,” is a track that I think really uniquely benefits from its infusion of synthesiser sensibility.

Music: “Army Now”

With a longer runtime and more complex structures and textures, “Army Now” is a work that feels a bit more substantial than “What We Have to Have,” but it retains a lot of the lovably punk aggression and vitriol of the A-side. Though “What We Have to Have” is a bit more bubbly, musically, the two tracks share a certain sense of irony. It’s particularly affecting on “Army Now,” which is almost like a depraved hymn to the horrors of war, sung by a zealous victim of propaganda. As I suggested earlier, I think the use of electronics really pushes this track over the top, reminding us of how increasingly sophisticated technology has resulted in increasingly devastating armed conflicts; its sudden and frightening synth blasts seem to portray missiles whistling in the air and then exploding. But I also can’t neglect the vocals on this track, which seem to grow progressively fractured, almost quavering on later repetitions of its refrain, as though the veil of propaganda is finally shattering for its narrator. With that out of the way, let’s get into how Futurisk expanded upon these ideas for their second and final release, the EP Player Piano.

Music: “Meteoright”

The femme fatale figure at the core of “Meteoright” is implied to be a spy, with her pillow talk overtly compared to “propaganda,” which makes the track feel cut from a similar cloth as “Army Now” in terms of its pervasive Cold War paranoia. But this interpretation is by no means necessary to enjoy “Meteoright.” It, and *Player Piano* as a whole, are arguably geared more towards a synth-pop direction, with less guitar and more emphasis on bright and rather hooky synth lines. While a certain aura of punk attitude still remains here, it’s also quite possible to appreciate “Meteoright” as simply a great minimal synth tune. The “femme fatale” theme seems to have been one Futurisk were somewhat invested in, given that they tackled it once again on another Player Piano track, “Poison Ivy.”

Music: “Poison Ivy”

Despite having a similar theme to “Meteoright,” “Poison Ivy” seems to take it in a fairly different musical direction: where “Meteoright” seeks to dominate our attention with its siren-like synths, “Poison Ivy” is lighter and more playful. While the subject of “Meteoright” comes across as genuinely threatening and ominous, the title character of “Poison Ivy” could be interpreted as simply flirtatious, and only dangerous in a metaphorical and unserious fashion. It’s also worth noting that she’s a named character, albeit with a tongue-in-cheek epithet, whereas the subject of “Meteoright” is never truly given a name. I think this choice makes “Poison Ivy” feel more like ribbing somebody familiar, and “Meteoright” a bit more like describing something eldritch and unknown. While “Poison Ivy” is only a bit over the two-minute mark, it still manages to fit in a rather compelling instrumental bridge, hinting at a level of musicianship in Futurisk that perhaps belies their allegiance to down-and-dirty punk song structures in some of their other work.

Another track that seems to highlight this side of the group is the lone instrumental of Player Piano, and hence their career, “Push Me, Pull You.” With a striking use of ABA form, it feels like the track on the EP with the most ambitions beyond pop.

Music: “Push Me Pull You”

The cover design for Player Piano is fairly minimalistic, featuring a streaking shooting star in a somewhat on-the-nose reference to the aforementioned track “Meteoright.” Above this device, we see the name of the group written in a prototypical “Space Age” typeface, with letters arranged in varying heights against a backdrop of five horizontal lines, perhaps suggestive of musical notation. With its simplistic black-and-orange colour scheme, Player Piano’s cover appropriates Midcentury Modernist graphic design, much like many other underground artists were doing at the time--I’m tempted to compare this one in particular to the iconic art for the Human League’s single “Being Boiled,” which also made heavy use of this lurid, burnished orange colour.

The album’s title is a reference to one of the earliest electro-mechanical musical instruments, the player piano or pianola. Player pianos were essentially pianos that played themselves--they were fed “programming” of music to play on perforated sheets, not unlike early computing punchcards. Peaking in popularity in the 1920s, the player piano was often used as a metaphor for the increasing automation of human life, particularly for the poignancy of how it replaced the creative and interpretive work of a performing musician. I think Futurisk’s use of the term shows a certain self-deprecating sensibility about their use of synthesisers; while music synthesisers of the kind they used are much more complex creative tools than player pianos, there remains a stigma surrounding them as inferior instruments, or tools that remove the human element from the creation of music.

As I mentioned earlier, Futurisk’s career was extremely short, and they never managed to produce any sort of follow-up to Player Piano--not even a 21st Century reunion album, as many rediscovered stars of “minimal synth” would eventually get to do. Futurisk’s musical afterlife began in the year 2010, when an expanded re-release of Player Piano became the twenty-third release on Veronica Vasicka’s influential Minimal Wave record label, which specializes in resurrecting hidden gems of early electronic music. Besides simply being more available and readily accessible, Minimal Wave’s version of the album is essentially a complete compilation of all of Futurisk’s work, including the tracks from their original 7” single as well as some earlier, rougher cuts of the same tracks. Given that this is a band whose entire discography can be taken in in under an hour, I’d recommend listening to this if you’re at all curious about the group. Even though I personally prefer the more polished versions of the songs, the more raw cuts are still extremely interesting for comparison.

Music: “Meteoright” (Early Version)

My personal favourite track on Player Piano is “Lonely Streets.” Earlier, I argued that the EP as a whole seems pushed in more of a synth-pop direction, and I think this track is probably the closest Futurisk ever really came to that ideal. The protagonist of “Lonely Streets” is not quite the femme fatale of “Meteoright” and “Poison Ivy,” but rather a somewhat distant and mysterious figure, admired from afar. That’s everything for today, thanks for listening!

Music: “Lonely Streets”

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift Bent the Music Industry to Her Will

By: Lindsay Zoladz for Vulture Date: December 30th 2019

In the 2010s, she became its savviest power player.

n late November 2019, Taylor Swift gave a career-spanning performance at the American Music Awards before accepting the statue for Artist of the Decade. (Swift was perhaps the perfect cross between the award’s two previous recipients, Britney Spears and Garth Brooks.) Clad in a cascading rose-colored cape and holding court among the younger female artists in attendance - 17-year-old Billie Eilish, 22-year-old Camila Cabello, 25-year-old Halsey - Swift had the queenly air of an elder stateswoman. After picking up five additional awards, including Artist of the Year, she became the show’s most decorated artist in history. “This is such a great year in music. The new artists are insane,” she declared in her acceptance speech, with big-sister gravitas. That night, she finally outgrew that “Who, me?” face of perpetual awards-show surprise; she accepted the honors she won like an artist who believed she had worked hard enough to deserve them.

Swift cut an imposing adult figure up there, because somewhere along the line she’d become one. The 2010s have coincided almost exactly with Swift’s 20s, with the subtle image changes and maturations across her last five album cycles coming to look like an Animorphs cover of a savvy and talented young woman gradually growing into her power. And so to reflect on the Decade in Taylor Swift is to assess not just her sonic evolutions but her many industry chess moves: She took Spotify to task in a Wall Street Journal op-ed and got Apple to reverse its policy of not paying artists royalties during a three-month free trial of its music-streaming service. She sued a former radio DJ for allegedly groping her during a photo op and demanded just a symbolic victory of $1, as if to say the money wasn’t the point. Critics wondered whether she was leaning too heavily on her co-writers, so she wrote her entire 2010 album, Speak Now, herself, without any collaborators. In 2018, she severed ties with her longtime label, Big Machine Records, and negotiated a new contract with Universal Music Group that gave her ownership of her masters and assurance that she (and any other artist on the label) would be paid out if UMG ever sold its Spotify shares. Yes, she stoked the flames of her celebrity feuds with Kanye West, Kim Kardashian West, and Katy Perry plenty over the past ten years, but she’s also focused some of her combative energy on tackling systemic problems and fashioning herself into something like the music industry’s most high-profile vigilante. Few artists have made royalty payments and the minutiae of entertainment-law front-page news as often as Swift has.

Within the industry, Swift has always had the reputation of being something of a songwriting savant (in 2007, when “Our Song” was released, then-17-year-old Swift became the youngest person ever to write and perform a No. 1 song on the Billboard Country chart), but she has long desired to be considered an industry power player, too. A 2011 New Yorker profile of Swift circa her blockbuster Speak Now World Tour noted that she initially intended to follow her parents’ footsteps and pursue a career in business, quoting her saying, “I didn’t know what a stockbroker was when I was 8, but I would just tell everybody that’s what I was going to be.” In an even earlier interview, she fondly recalled the times in elementary school when she stayed up late with her mother, practicing for school presentations. “I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds - because male artists are allowed to,” she said this year in an unusually candid Rolling Stone interview. “And I’m so sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business.” Of course, she still spent plenty of time sitting at her piano or strumming her guitar, but in that conversation she painted herself as someone who is also “sit[ting] in a conference room several times a week,” coming up with ideas about how best to market her music and her career.

And so over the past decade, Swift’s face has appeared not just on magazine covers and television screens, but on UPS trucks and Amazon packages. Her songs have been featured in Target commercials and NFL spots, to name just two of her many lucrative partnerships. That New Yorker profile also found her to be uncommonly enthused about the fact that her CDs were being sold in Starbucks: “I was so stoked about it, because it’s been one of my goals - I always go into Starbucks, and I wished that they would sell my album.”

“Taylor Swift is something like the Sheryl Sandberg of pop music,” Hazel Cills wrote recently in Jezebel. “She has propelled her career from tiny country artist into pop machine over the past few years with little shame when it comes to corporate collaborators.” Such brazen femme-capitalism will always be a turnoff to some people (“the Sheryl Sandberg of pop music” is even less of a compliment in 2019 than it was when Lean In was first published), but it’s undeniable that it has helped Swift maintain and leverage her status as a commercial juggernaut more consistently than any other pop star over the past ten years.

In the 2010s, with the clockwork certainty of a midterm election, there was a Taylor Swift album every other autumn. (Yes, there was a three-year gap between 1989 and Reputation, but she all but made up for it with the quick timing of August’s Lover.) The kinds of pop superstars considered her peers did not stick to such rigid schedules: Adele released two studio albums this decade, Beyoncé released three, and even Rihanna - who for the first three years of the decade was averaging an album a year - eventually slowed her roll and will have released just four when the 2010s are all said and done. The only A-plus-list musician who saturated the market as steadily as Swift did this decade was Drake.

Still, Drake’s commercial dominance was more of a newfangled phenomenon, capitalizing on the industry’s sudden reliance on streaming and his massive popularity on platforms like Spotify and Apple Music. Drake might be the artist who rode the streaming wave most successfully this decade, but - with her strategic withholding of her albums from certain platforms until they better compensated artists - Swift was often the one bending it to her will. And she could do that because she didn’t need to rely on it solely: Somehow, against all odds, Taylor Swift still sold records. Like, gazillions of them. When Swift’s 2017 record, Reputation (some critics thought it was a critical misstep, but it certainly wasn’t a commercial one), moved 1.216 million units in its first seven days, Swift became the only artist in history to achieve four different million-selling weeks. And, of course, all four of these weeks came during a decade when traditional album sales were on a precipitous decline. At least for those mere mortals who were not an all-powerful being named Taylor Alison Swift.

“Female empowerment” has been such an ambient, unquestioned virtue of the pop culture of this decade that we have too often failed to take a step back and ask ourselves what sort of power is being advocated for, and if its attainment should always be a cause for celebration. Is “female empowerment” any different from the hollow, materialistic promises of the late ’90s “girl power”? Is “female power” inherently different or more benevolent than its default male counterpart? Maybe this feels like such a distinctly American hang-up because we have not yet experienced that mythic, oft-imagined figure of the First Female President, and have thus not had to contend with the cold reality that, whoever she is, she will, like all of us, be inevitably flawed, imperfect, and at least occasionally disappointing.

As she’s grown into her own brand of 21st-century American pop feminism - sometimes elegantly, sometimes gawkily - Swift seems to have come to a firm conviction that female power is essentially more virtuous than the male variety. This was a side of herself she celebrated in her AMA performance. Swift opened her medley with a few fiery bars of “The Man,” her own personalized daydream of what gender equality would look like: “I’m so sick of running as fast as I can,” she sings, “wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man.” She wore an oversize white button-down onto which the titles of her old albums were stamped in a correctional-facility font: SPEAK NOW, RED, 1989, REPUTATION. Plenty of the millions of people who scrutinize Swift’s every move interpreted her choice of outfit and song as not-so-subtle jabs at Big Machine’s Scott Borchetta and the manager-to-the-stars Scooter Braun, with whom Swift is still in a messy, uncommonly public battle over the fate of her master recordings. (The only album title missing from her outfit was “LOVER,” which happens to be the only one of which she has full ownership.) She has framed the terms of her battle with Borchetta and Braun in strikingly gendered language: “These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work,” she told Rolling Stone. “And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of Scotch to themselves.” Though she is herself a very rich, very powerful woman, she reads their message to be unquestionably condescending: Be a good little girl and shut up.

It is true that many record contracts are designed to take advantage of young artists, and that young women and people of color are probably perceived by music executives to be the marks most vulnerable to exploitation. But it is also true that Swift signed a legally binding contract, the kind that a businesswoman like herself would have to respect if it were signed by somebody else. Braun, who has been asking to have these negotiations in private rather than on Twitter, claims to have received death threats from her fans.

Even as she’s grown into one of the most dominant pop-culture figures in the world, Swift sometimes still seems to be clinging to her old underdog identity, to the extent that she can fail to grasp the magnitude of her own power or account for the blind spots of her privilege. “Someday I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,” she sang on Speak Now’s Grammy-winning 2010 single “Mean,” seemingly oblivious to the fact that, compared to 99.99 percent of the population, she already was. The mid-decade backlash to Swift’s thin-white-celebrity-and-model-studded “girl squad” - none of which was more incisive than Lara Marie Schoenhals’s hilarious parody video - took her by surprise. “I never would have imagined that people would have thought, This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it... I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to.”

“Female power” is not automatically faultless, and can of course be tainted by all other sorts of biases and assumptions about class, race, and sexual orientation, to name just a few more common pitfalls. Swift’s face-palm-inducing 2015 misunderstanding with Nicki Minaj revealed this, of course, and plenty of people felt that her sudden embrace of the LGBTQ community in the “You Need to Calm Down” was a clumsy overcorrection for her past silence. Maybe she would have gotten where she was quicker if she were a man. But it would take a more complicated, and perhaps less catchy, song to acknowledge she might not have gotten there at all had she not also enjoyed other privileges.

Art has its own kind of power - sneakier and harder to measure than the economic kind. The reason Taylor Swift has been worth talking about incessantly for an entire decade is that she continues to wield this kind, too. “I don’t think her commercial responsibilities detract from her genuine passion for her craft,” a then-17-year-old Tavi Gevinson wrote in a memorable 2013 essay for The Believer. “Have you ever watched her in interviews when she gets asked about her actual songwriting? She becomes that kid who’s really into the science fair.”

After so much industry drama, much of the lived-in, self-reflective Lover is a simple reminder that Swift was and still is a singular songwriter. Yes, this was the decade of such loud, flashy missteps as “Look What You Made Me Do,” “Welcome to New York,” and “Me!,” but it was also a decade of so many quieter triumphs: the pulsing synesthesia of “Red,” the nervous heart flutter of “Delicate,” the sleek sophistication of “Style,” the concise lyricism of “Mean,” the cathartic fun of “22,” the slow-dance swoon of “Lover.” But like so many of her fans, and even Swift herself, I still find the most enduringly powerful song she’s ever written to be “All Too Well,” the smoldering breakup scrapbook released on her great 2012 album Red. “Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well,” she sings, an innocent enough lyric that, by the end of the song, comes to glint like a switchblade. In a decade of DGAF, ghosting, and performative chill, remembering it all too well might be Swift’s stealthiest superpower. She felt it deeply, can still access that feeling whenever she needs to, and that means she can size you up in a line as concisely cutting as “so casually cruel in the name of being honest.” Forget Jake Gyllenhaal or John Mayer. That’s the sort of observation that would bring Goliath to his knees.

“It is still the case that when listeners hear a female voice, they do not hear a voice that connotes authority,” the historian Mary Beard writes in her manifesto Women & Power, “or rather they have not learned how to hear authority in it.” At least in the realm of pop music, Swift has spent the better part of her decade chipping away at that double standard, and teaching people how to think about cultural power a little bit differently. She sprinkled artful emblems of teen-girl-speak through her smash hits (“Uhhh he calls me and he’s like, ‘I still love you,’ and I’m like, ‘This is exhausting, we are never getting back together, like, ever”) and did not abandon her effusive love of kittens and butterflies in order to be taken seriously. As an artist and a businesswoman, she made the power of teen girls - and the women who used to be them - that much more perilous to ignore. Because they’ve been there all along, and they remember all too well.

[melisa-may-taylor72]

Queen's hectic days in Argentina: secrets behind the shows, the meeting with Maradona and a love affair for Freddie Mercury

The band arrived in the country in 1981. Curiosities and "pearls" of a very special visit

By Matías Bauso- Infoshow

An exultant and provocative figure, who may appear in tight white pants provocatively exposing his ass to a heated audience or who sits at the piano with a very short and tight satin pants that would blush the most enthusiastic devotee of sadomasochism, a guitarist who plays in a t-shirt with an immense Union Jack, crazed masses, street chases in search of an improbable autograph, China Zorrilla, Miguel Romano, Diego Maradona, ItalPark, the military, the repressive climate, the Rambla marplatense and even an unknown love affair. This story has everything. Queen's visit to Argentina in 1981 was much more than a musical tour.

Queen's enthusiasm - both current and retro - is a faint reflection of what happened in the country at the end of February 1981. Like the Beatlemania in the sixties, the presence of the English quartet unleashed a collective madness never before seen in Argentina.

▪Queen at Velez Sarsfield Stadium

Queen monopolized the attention for more than a week. Television news, radio programs, magazine covers, conversations in bars, newspaper supplements (not so the covers of the main ones: at that time it was still not allowed to put show business news on the cover; only Chronicle excepted for that rule).

The band led by Freddie Mercury gave five concerts in Argentina. Three in the Vélez stadium, one in Mar del Plata and another in Rosario. The public success was colossal.

The first performance was on February 28 in Velez, repeated  the next day, then stop in Mar del Plata and Rosario. The last show was again in Buenos Aires. That day the capacity of the stadium overflowed. The contagious reaction had taken effect. Those who had not gone, wanted to go; those who had already witnessed some of the shows wanted to be there again.

▪Queen gave five shows in Argentina

The regulations of the spaces in the public spectacles, in those times, were at least, morose. Just look at the photos of any grandstand in a superclassic of the early 1980s. Producers sold more tickets and that fifth show was the busiest. It is estimated that between those who paid for their tickets and those who snuck in more than 60,000 people attended that night. At one point the capacity The crowd could barely move. Whoever reached into the pocket to take out the lighter for a cigarette could set in motion a human tide that would end up crashing into a paravalanche or the barbed wire. In the field, the situation was a little more relaxed. Being the first experience in which this section was offered for sale, the estimates were more cautious. Thus, the police decided that the best way to decompress the people was to drill holes in the Olympic fence and allow part of the public to pass into the field through these improvised holes.

The magnitude of the event and its immense repercussion can be explained. It was the first time that a rock band had reached the country at the peak of its career. These shows were part of the world tour to present the album "The Game". Queen was one of the most important bands in the world and arrived in Argentina at its peak.

Although the specialized critics did not treat them very well (it was a habit that had started in the United Kingdom and had spread to the United States) the album contained several hits: Another One Bites the Dust, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Play the Game, Save Me. The British band was a pioneer in including Latin America in their itinerary. Until then the world tours were not such, they only included the United States, Europe and Japan.

The history of Queen's Latin American tour shows why this was so. In Mexico, six of the scheduled performances had to be cancelled, Pinochet did not authorize the performance in Chile, in Brazil the Rio and Porto Alegre shows were suspended, and in Venezuela two more due to the official declaration of mourning for the death of an ex-president. However, the band's bet, beyond these improvisations, unthinkable today, (in times of presales, early birds, insurance and armies of lawyers), was more than successful.

There was a precedent in the country of an international star appearing in a stadium. In 1973 the Mexican guitarist Carlos Santana played with his band in old wooden stadium of San Lorenzo. But despite his reputation and fame, Santana did not have the repercussion of the English band and at that moment in his career his musical search was turning towards fusion, towards jazz-rock. The lack of experience made the stage stand in the middle of the arena and there was no audience in the field. The closest spectator was, hopefully, 40 meters away from the artists. The sound - the lack of it - was another problem.

In 1981 Queen came to the country with only that antecedent. The show they brought was unlike anything seen in the country. A huge stage, consoles of moving lights, an impressive sound power, fireworks and tricks, a worked scenic staging, immortal hymns and a performer like Freddie Mercury.

Queen's vocalist's ability to perform - but especially on stage - exceeded expectations. There he was, in front of more than 50,000 people, imposing the rules. What he wanted was at stake. A game that had no public exposure in the country, that was silenced and repressed. He did not modify his proposal despite the repressive climate, the censorship. One of the particularities of his performances in the country was that at the five of them they played a song that was somewhat lost in their discography and that many Argentinians did not know: Get Down, Make Love. It was a carnal, erotic and explicit song, with direct references to oral sex.

▪Diego Maradona and Queen

Queen did not show any major itching in regards to those who ruled in the places where they performed. This South American tour was a good example; in its initial schedule it passed through three countries governed by dictatorships. Years later it was also presented in South Africa despite international sanctions due to Apartheid.

It is often claimed that Queen's musicians met with Argentina's president, Roberto Viola. The truth is that Viola had not yet assumed that role. He was a member of the military board, Chief of the Army, but the president was still Jorge Rafael Videla. His investiture would take place weeks after the visit of the British.

Viola had a more political profile and believed that a slight opening was convenient. In that plan, and instigated by his son -who had been a football player-, he met at home with Freddie Mercury, Brian May and John Deacon. Roger Taylor, the drummer, missed the appointment. Today, almost four decades later, many affirm that his absence was due to his political positions, even though he neither at that time nor now has issued any opinion on the matter.

▪ The band met with Roberto Viola, one of the members of the Military Board

The memories of several of those involved - members of the band, technical staff, manager and even the photographer - are impregnated with political valuations that seem to have been concocted with the passage of time and do not represent what they thought and felt at the time. If so, it can be said that they had a unique capacity for dissociation, almost constituting multiple personalities. The presence of military and police personnel was strong. That was because the arrival of the English band had unleashed an excitement rarely seen. Every movement, every displacement was followed by hundreds or thousands of fanatics. And no one wanted any disturbance to happen or the musicians to do any harm.

The repressive vocation of the Argentine military forces of those times does not need to be underlined or exaggerated. For example, the correspondent of the American Rolling Stone magazine described the ditch that separates the South stalls from the playing field at the Stadium as a key to the Argentine dictatorship.

This interpretative excess (most of the Argentine stadiums built in the forties and fifties have a ditch) is combined with certain data, with images of police and military forces repressing whoever approaches the musicians, violently liberating their path. Around the Sheraton Hotel,  teenagers stood guard to try to and get in touch with their idols.

▪ Another of the Argentine magazines that showed the presence of the group in the country

In Mar del Plata, the musicians stayed at the Provincial Hotel. Freddie Mercury's movements were limited. Enclosed in his room, the best in the hotel, he let time pass watching the movement of the Rambla from the window. So it was that one afternoon, that habit turned into a love split. His partner at the time, Peter Morgan, offered him to go shopping around the city. Freddie explained that it would be impossible for him to go ten meters without being buried under the youthful enthusiasm. A couple of hours later, the artist saw from the window of his room his partner talking to a young man on the Rambla. The jealousy was immediate and so was the breakup, despite the fact that Morgan denied that he was the one who was walking with another young man on that Mar del Plata sunset.

This concert was the worst of the five. The security was very bad, thousands of people entered the stadium without tickets, the mounted police attacked the public in the same field of play of the World Cup Stadium. To continue the tour, the musicians demanded that the security issue be adjusted. The condition was fulfilled.

 ▪ There were strong police operations to “protect” the band

The press and the local public were dazzled by the performance of the quartet. The visual proposal was unique, Freddie's vocal and histrionic abilities, May's musical skills, the solvency of the rhythmic base, the impact of the staging. However, international critics still treated the group with disdain. The Rolling Stone critic gives them no more merit than a pub band. He even mocks their incompetence. Only the dedication in each show and the enthusiasm of the Argentine public stand out. One of the events that most surprised the local public, beyond the almost perfect succession of invincible hits, was Mercury's display and magnetic attraction. The local rock leaders were static, even somewhat modest.

As their stay in the country continued, the musicians received more and more affection from the public. They were amazed by the reaction of their fans to each song, how they knew the lyrics, how they participated enthusiastically and actively in the show. The peak was unfailingly produced in Bohemian Rapsody and, almost on the other side of that opulent and operatic work: Love of My Life was played with Freddie on the piano and Brian on the guitar. The audience sang the entire lyrics, without pauses. In the video recordings of the song you can see the mixture of surprise and joy of May and Mercury.

For the last concert of the tour in the country, they returned to the Vélez stadium. In the encores came the surprise. Freddie re-entered with the Argentine National Team shirt and addressed the audience in English: "I want to introduce you to a friend of yours: Maradona". The pirate recordings allow you to hear the roar of the crowd, you even hear some "Maradooo, Maradooo". Diego with his tight, high curls came on stage with sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. The footballer spoke fluently: "I want to thank Freddie and Queen for making me so happy. And now “Another bites the dust”.

Deacon and Taylor start Another One Bites the Dust, the group's latest hit.  Then would come the famous photos in the locker room. Freddie with the light blue Argentine T-shirt from Diego (in the show he used another one), and Maradona with a T-shirt with a big British flag that covered all his torso, similar to the one worn by Brian May in some part of the concert. That photo, would have been unimaginable a year later (Fauklands's War). At the time of the concert, although today it seems unreal, Queen was better known worldwide than Maradona.

 ▪ Miguel Romano, one of the stylists of the moment, together with the musicians

Journalist Juan Manuel Cibeira says that in a barbecue at the Argentine producer's house, Mercury announced that he would go out with the Argentine t-shirt. The Argentines present tried to dissuade him. They had a hard time explaining the situation to him. Rock and football in those days were two worlds that in Argentina had no point of intersection. For the rock people, football was something without brightness, without any evaluation. Any reference to it or the adoption of any of its rites or symbols was frowned upon. Mercury, more accustomed to the crossing of these two popular passions by what he saw in England, did not listen to the advice. And, in this way, he produced one of the first contacts between football and rock in the country, a situation that became naturalised in the mid-nineties.

Maradona was not the only local celebrity who came into contact with Queen. In Youtube circulates a video of an interview that the actress China Zorrilla did to Freddie Mercury. The Uruguayan actress in perfect English speaks about the answers of the singer, monologue, almost does not ask questions and forgets the simultaneous translation, thus a bizarre truncated dialogue of more than three minutes in English takes place in central time.  

Local Journalist Juan Alberto Badía, on the other hand, was the one who interviewed the musicians for Channel 9, which broadcasted the first live concert for the whole country and for Brazil ( it made very high rating peaks). The presenter was also the one who introduced them in the stadium. In the magazines of the time you can also see how the stylist Miguel Romano cut Mercury's hair before the last show and how in his free time, Brian May took his family to Ital Park, playground where several generations of citizens spent their childhood.

Queen's five concerts in the country marked an era, pioneering the arrival of great rock figures to Argentine stadiums. Many years would pass, the monetary convertibility and a much more global structure of the record business so that international stars would take the country as a reasonable place for their presentations.

[dorischiangca]

Discover the Joy of Music: Expert Piano Lessons in Yorba Linda

Learning to play the piano is a journey filled with joy, creativity, and a sense of accomplishment. Whether you're a beginner eager to start your musical adventure or an advanced player looking to refine your skills, Doris Chiang's piano lessons in Yorba Linda offer a tailored approach to help you achieve your goals.

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Enhance Cognitive Abilities: Playing the piano stimulates brain function, improving memory, problem-solving skills, and overall cognitive development. Boost Coordination: Piano playing requires hand-eye coordination and the ability to use both hands independently, enhancing motor skills.

Stress Relief: Music has a calming effect, and playing the piano can be a great way to relieve stress and relax.

Build Confidence: Learning to play pieces successfully boosts self-esteem and provides a sense of accomplishment.

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Why Choose Doris Chiang for Piano Lessons in Yorba Linda?

Doris Chiang is a dedicated and experienced piano teacher who brings passion and expertise to her lessons. Here’s what makes her piano lessons in Yorba Linda exceptional:

Personalized Lesson Plans: Doris customizes each lesson to fit the student's individual needs, learning style, and musical goals.

Comprehensive Teaching Approach: From basic techniques to advanced music theory and performance, Doris covers all aspects of piano education. Experienced and Professional Instructor: With years of teaching and performance experience, Doris provides high-quality instruction and valuable insights.

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What to Expect from Piano Lessons with Doris Chiang

Doris Chiang's piano lessons are structured to provide a thorough and enjoyable learning experience, whether you're a beginner, intermediate, or advanced student.

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For those new to the piano, Doris focuses on building a solid foundation:

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Simple Pieces: Start with simple compositions to build confidence and foundational skills.

Intermediate Lessons

Intermediate students will delve deeper into the art of piano playing:

Advanced Techniques: Explore more complex finger techniques and hand coordination.

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Starting your piano lessons with Doris Chiang is simple. Visit her website, Doris Chiang Piano Lessons, to learn more about her teaching philosophy, read student testimonials, and book your first lesson.

Conclusion

Embarking on the journey of learning to play the piano is a fulfilling and enriching experience. With Doris Chiang's expert piano lessons in Yorba Linda, you have the opportunity to unlock your musical potential and achieve your goals. Whether you’re just starting out or looking to enhance your skills, Doris's personalized approach and supportive teaching style will help you succeed. Don’t wait any longer—start your musical journey today and experience the joy of piano playing with Doris Chiang.

[blackkudos]

Betty Carter

Betty Carter (born Lillie Mae Jones; May 19, 1929 – September 26, 1998) was an American jazz singer known for her improvisational technique, scatting and other complex musical abilities that demonstrated her vocal talent and imaginative interpretation of lyrics and melodies. Vocalist Carmen McRae once remarked: "There's really only one jazz singer—only one: Betty Carter."

Early life

Carter was born in Flint, Michigan, and grew up in Detroit, where her father, James Jones, was the musical director of a Detroit church and her mother, Bessie, was a housewife. As a child, Carter was raised to be extremely independent and to not expect nurturing from her family. Even 30 years after leaving home, Carter was still very aware of and affected by the home life she was raised in, and was quoted saying:

I have been far removed from my immediate family. There's been no real contact or phone calls home every week to find out how everybody is…As far as family is concerned, it's been a lonesome trek…It's probably just as much my fault as it is theirs, and I can't blame anybody for it. But there was…no real closeness, where the family urged me on, or said…'We're proud'…and all that. No, no…none of that happened.

While the lack of support from Carter's family caused her to feel isolated, it may also have instilled self-reliance and determination to succeed. She studied piano at the Detroit Conservatory at the age of 15, but only attained a modest level of expertise.

At the age of 16, Carter began singing. As her parents were not big proponents of her pursuing a singing career, she would sneak out at night to audition for amateur shows. After winning first place at her first amateur competition, Carter felt as though she were being accepted into the music world and decided that she must pursue it tirelessly. When she began performing live, she was too young to be admitted into bars, so she obtained a forged birth certificate to gain entry in order to perform.

Career

Even at a young age, Carter was able to bring a new vocal style to jazz. The breathiness of her voice was a characteristic seldom heard before her appearance on the music scene. She also was well known for her passion for scat singing and her strong belief that the throwaway attitude that most jazz musicians approached it with was inappropriate and wasteful due to its spontaneity and basic inventiveness, seldom seen elsewhere.

Detroit, where Carter grew up, was a hotbed of jazz growth. After signing with a talent agent after her win at amateur night, Carter had opportunities to perform with famous jazz artists such as Dizzy Gillespie, who visited Detroit for an extensive amount of time. Gillespie is often considered responsible for her strong passion for scatting. In earlier recordings, it is apparent that her scatting had similarities to the qualities of Gillespie's.

At the time of Gillespie's visit, Charlie Parker was receiving treatment in a psychiatric hospital, delaying her encounter with him. However, Carter eventually performed with Parker, as well as with his band consisting of Tommy Potter, Max Roach, and Miles Davis. After receiving praise from both Gillespie and Parker for her vocal prowess, Carter felt an upsurge in confidence and knew that she could make it in the business with perseverance.

Carter's confidence was well founded. In 1948, she was asked by Lionel Hampton to join his band. She finally had her big break. Working with Hampton's group gave her the chance to be bandmates with artists such as Charles Mingus and Wes Montgomery, as well as with Ernest Harold "Benny" Bailey, who had recently vacated Gillespie's band and Albert Thornton "Al" Grey who would later go on to join Gillespie's band. Hampton obviously had an ear for talent and a love for bebop. Carter too had a deep love for bebop as well as a talent for it. Hampton's wife Gladys gave her the nickname "Betty Bebop", a nickname she reportedly detested. Despite her good ear and charming personality, Carter was fiercely independent and had a tendency to attempt to resist Hampton's direction, while Hampton had a temper and was quick to anger. Hampton expected a lot from his players and did not want them to forget that he was the band's leader. She openly hated his swing style, refused to sing in a swinging way, and she was far too outspoken for his tastes. Carter honed her scat singing ability while on tour, which was not well received by Hampton as he did not enjoy her penchant for improvisation. Over the course of two and a half years, Hampton fired Carter a total of seven times.

Carter was part of the Lionel Hampton Orchestra that played at the famed Cavalcade of Jazz in Los Angeles at Wrigley Field which was produced by Leon Hefflin, Sr. on July 10, 1949. They did a second concert at Lane Field in San Diego on September 3, 1949. They also performed at the sixth famed Cavalcade of Jazz concert on June 25, 1950. Also featured on the same day were Roy Milton & His Solid Senders, Pee Wee Crayton's Orchestra, Dinah Washington, Tiny Davis & Her Hell Divers, and other artists. 16,000 people were reported to be in attendance and the concert ended early because of a fracas while Hampton's band played "Flying High".

Being a part of Hampton's band provided a few things for "The Kid" (a nickname bestowed upon Carter that stuck for the rest of her life): connections, and a new approach to music, making it so that all future musical attitudes that came from Carter bore the mark of Hampton's guidance. Because of Hampton's hiring of Carter, she also goes down in history as one of the last big band era jazz singers in history. However, by 1951, Carter left the band. After a short recuperation back home, Carter was in New York, working all over the city for the better part of the early 1950s, as well as participating in an extensive tour of the south, playing for "camp shows". This work made little to no money, but Carter believed it was necessary in order to develop as an artist, and was a way to "pay her dues".

Very soon after Carter's arrival in New York City, she was given the opportunity to record with King Pleasure and the Ray Bryant Trio, becoming more recognizable and well-known and subsequently being granted the chance to sing at the Apollo Theatre. This theatre was known for giving up-and-coming artists the final shove into becoming household names. Carter was propelled into prominence, recording with Epic label by 1955 and was a well-known artist by the late 1950s. Her first solo LP, Out There, was released on the Peacock label in 1958.

Miles Davis can be credited for Carter's bump in popularity, as he was the person who recommended to Ray Charles that he take Carter under his wing. Carter began touring with Charles in 1960, then making a recording of duets with him in 1961 (Ray Charles and Betty Carter), including the R&B-chart-topping "Baby, It's Cold Outside", which brought her a measure of popular recognition. In 1963 she toured in Japan with Sonny Rollins. She recorded for various labels during this period, including ABC-Paramount, Atco and United Artists, but was rarely satisfied with the resulting product. After three years of touring with Charles and a total of two recordings together, Carter took a hiatus from recording to marry. She and her husband had two children. However, she continued performing, not wanting to be dependent upon her husband for financial support.

The 1960s became an increasingly difficult time for Carter as she began to slip in fame, refusing to sing contemporary pop music, and her youth fading. Carter was nearly forty years old, which at the time was not conducive to a career in the public eye. Rock and roll, like pop, was steadily becoming more popular and provided cash flow for labels and recording companies. Carter had to work extremely hard to continue to book gigs because of the jazz decline. Her marriage also was beginning to crumble. By 1971, Carter was single and mainly performing live with a small group consisting of merely a piano, drums, and a bass. The Betty Carter trio was one of very few jazz groups to continue to book gigs in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Carter created her own record label, Bet-Car Records, in 1969, the sole recording source of Carter's music for the next eighteen years:

....in fact, I think I was probably the first independent label out there in '69. People thought I was crazy when I did it. 'How are you gonna get any distribution?' I mean, 'How are you gonna take care of business and do that yourself?' 'Don't you need somebody else?' I said, 'Listen. Nobody was comin' this way and I wanted the records out there, so I found out that I could do it myself.' So, that's what I did. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. You know. We're talking about '69!

Some of her most famous recordings were originally issued on Bet-Car, including the double album The Audience with Betty Carter (1980). In 1980 she was the subject of a documentary film by Michelle Parkerson, But Then, She's Betty Carter. Carter's approach to music did not concern solely her method of recording and distribution, but also her choice in venues. Carter began performing at colleges and universities, starting in 1972 at Goddard College in Vermont. Carter was excited at this opportunity, as it was since the mid-1960s that Carter had been wanting to visit schools and provide some sort of education for students. She began lecturing along with her musical performances, informing students of the history of jazz and its roots.

By 1975, Carter's life and work prospects began to improve, and Carter was beginning to be able to pick her own jobs once again, touring in Europe, South America, and the United States. In 1976, Carter was a guest live performer on Saturday Night Live′s first season on the air, and was also a performer at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1977 and 1978, carving out a permanent place for herself in the music business as well as in the world of jazz.

In 1977, Carter enjoyed a new peak in critical and popular estimation, and taught a master class with her past mentor, Dizzy Gillespie, at Harvard. In the last decade of her life, Carter began to receive even wider acclaim and recognition. In 1987 she signed with Verve Records, who reissued most of her Bet-Car albums on CD for the first time and made them available to wider audiences. In 1988 she won a Grammy for her album Look What I Got! and sang in a guest appearance on The Cosby Show (episode "How Do You Get to Carnegie Hall?"). In 1994 she performed at the White House and was a headliner at Verve's 50th anniversary celebration in Carnegie Hall. She was the subject of a 1994 short film by Dick Fontaine, Betty Carter: New All the Time.

In 1997 she was awarded a National Medal of Arts by President Bill Clinton. This award was one of thousands, but Carter considered this medal to be her most important that she received in her lifetime.

Death

Carter continued to perform, tour, and record, as well as search for new talent until she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in the summer of 1998. She died on September 26, 1998, at the age of 69, and was later cremated. She was survived by her two sons.

Legacy

Carter often recruited young accompanists for performances and recordings, insisting that she "learned a lot from these young players, because they're raw and they come up with things that I would never think about doing."

1993 was Carter's biggest year of innovation, creating a program called Jazz Ahead, which took 20 students who were given the opportunity to spend an entire week training and composing with Carter, a program that still exists to this day and is hosted in The Kennedy Center.

Betty Carter is considered responsible for discovering great jazz talent, her discoveries including John Hicks, Curtis Lundy, Mulgrew Miller, Cyrus Chestnut, Dave Holland, Stephen Scott, Kenny Washington, Benny Green and more.

On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed Betty Carter among hundreds of artists whose material was reportedly destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.

Discography

CD compilations

1990: Compact Jazz – (Polygram) – Bet-Car and Verve recordings from 1976 to 1987

1992: I Can't Help It – (Impulse!/GRP) – the Out There and The Modern Sound albums on one compact disc

1999: Priceless Jazz – (GRP) – Peacock and ABC-Paramount recordings from 1958 and 1960

2003: Betty Carter's Finest Hour – (Verve) – recordings from 1958 to 1992

On multi-artist compilations

1988: "I'm Wishing" on Stay Awake: Various Interpretations of Music from Vintage Disney Films

1997: "Lonely House" on September Songs – The Music of Kurt Weill

[ts1989fanatic]

Taylor Swift Bent the Music Industry to Her Will

In the 2010s, she became its savviest power player.

In late November 2019, Taylor Swift gave a career-spanning performance at the American Music Awards before accepting the statue for Artist of the Decade. (Swift was perhaps the perfect cross between the award’s two previous recipients, Britney Spears and Garth Brooks.) Clad in a cascading rose-colored cape and holding court among the younger female artists in attendance — 17-year-old Billie Eilish, 22-year-old Camila Cabello, 25-year-old Halsey — Swift had the queenly air of an elder stateswoman. After picking up five additional awards, including Artist of the Year, she became the show’s most decorated artist in history. “This is such a great year in music. The new artists are insane,” she declared in her acceptance speech, with big-sister gravitas. That night, she finally outgrew that “Who, me?” face of perpetual awards-show surprise; she accepted the honors she won like an artist who believed she had worked hard enough to deserve them.

Swift cut an imposing adult figure up there, because somewhere along the line she’d become one. The 2010s have coincided almost exactly with Swift’s 20s, with the subtle image changes and maturations across her last five album cycles coming to look like an Animorphs cover of a savvy and talented young woman gradually growing into her power. And so to reflect on the Decade in Taylor Swift is to assess not just her sonic evolutions but her many industry chess moves: She took Spotify to task in a Wall Street Journal op-ed and got Apple to reverse its policy of not paying artists royalties during a three-month free trial of its music-streaming service. She sued a former radio DJ for allegedly groping her during a photo op and demanded just a symbolic victory of $1, as if to say the money wasn’t the point. Critics wondered whether she was leaning too heavily on her co-writers, so she wrote her entire 2010 album, Speak Now, herself, without any collaborators. In 2018, she severed ties with her longtime label, Big Machine Records, and negotiated a new contract with Universal Music Group that gave her ownership of her masters and assurance that she (and any other artist on the label) would be paid out if UMG ever sold its Spotify shares. Yes, she stoked the flames of her celebrity feuds with Kanye West, Kim Kardashian West, and Katy Perry plenty over the past ten years, but she’s also focused some of her combative energy on tackling systemic problems and fashioning herself into something like the music industry’s most high-profile vigilante. Few artists have made royalty payments and the minutiae of entertainment-law front-page news as often as Swift has.

Within the industry, Swift has always had the reputation of being something of a songwriting savant (in 2007, when “Our Song” was released, then-17-year-old Swift became the youngest person ever to write and perform a No. 1 song on the Billboard Country chart), but she has long desired to be considered an industry power player, too. A 2011 New Yorker profile of Swift circa her blockbuster Speak Now World Tour noted that she initially intended to follow her parents’ footsteps and pursue a career in business, quoting her saying, “I didn’t know what a stockbroker was when I was 8, but I would just tell everybody that’s what I was going to be.” In an even earlier interview, she fondly recalled the times in elementary school when she stayed up late with her mother, practicing for school presentations. “I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds — because male artists are allowed to,” she said this year in an unusually candid Rolling Stone interview. “And I’m so sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business.” Of course, she still spent plenty of time sitting at her piano or strumming her guitar, but in that conversation she painted herself as someone who is also “sit[ting] in a conference room several times a week,” coming up with ideas about how best to market her music and her career.

And so over the past decade, Swift’s face has appeared not just on magazine covers and television screens, but on UPS trucks and Amazon packages. Her songs have been featured in Target commercials and NFL spots, to name just two of her many lucrative partnerships. That New Yorker profile also found her to be uncommonly enthused about the fact that her CDs were being sold in Starbucks: “I was so stoked about it, because it’s been one of my goals — I always go into Starbucks, and I wished that they would sell my album.”

“Taylor Swift is something like the Sheryl Sandberg of pop music,” Hazel Cills wrote recently in Jezebel. “She has propelled her career from tiny country artist into pop machine over the past few years with little shame when it comes to corporate collaborators.” Such brazen femme-capitalism will always be a turnoff to some people (“the Sheryl Sandberg of pop music” is even less of a compliment in 2019 than it was when Lean In was first published), but it’s undeniable that it has helped Swift maintain and leverage her status as a commercial juggernaut more consistently than any other pop star over the past ten years.

In the 2010s, with the clockwork certainty of a midterm election, there was a Taylor Swift album every other autumn. (Yes, there was a three-year gap between 1989 and Reputation, but she all but made up for it with the quick timing of August’s Lover.) The kinds of pop superstars considered her peers did not stick to such rigid schedules: Adele released two studio albums this decade, Beyoncé released three, and even Rihanna — who for the first three years of the decade was averaging an album a year — eventually slowed her roll and will have released just four when the 2010s are all said and done. The only A-plus-list musician who saturated the market as steadily as Swift did this decade was Drake.

Still, Drake’s commercial dominance was more of a newfangled phenomenon, capitalizing on the industry’s sudden reliance on streaming and his massive popularity on platforms like Spotify and Apple Music. Drake might be the artist who rode the streaming wave most successfully this decade, but — with her strategic withholding of her albums from certain platforms until they better compensated artists — Swift was often the one bending it to her will. And she could do that because she didn’t need to rely on it solely: Somehow, against all odds, Taylor Swift still sold records. Like, gazillions of them. When Swift’s 2017 record, Reputation (some critics thought it was a critical misstep, but it certainly wasn’t a commercial one), moved 1.216 million units in its first seven days, Swift became the only artist in history to achieve four different million-selling weeks. And, of course, all four of these weeks came during a decade when traditional album sales were on a precipitous decline. At least for those mere mortals who were not an all-powerful being named Taylor Alison Swift.

“Female empowerment” has been such an ambient, unquestioned virtue of the pop culture of this decade that we have too often failed to take a step back and ask ourselves what sort of power is being advocated for, and if its attainment should always be a cause for celebration. Is “female empowerment” any different from the hollow, materialistic promises of the late ’90s “girl power”? Is “female power” inherently different or more benevolent than its default male counterpart? Maybe this feels like such a distinctly American hang-up because we have not yet experienced that mythic, oft-imagined figure of the First Female President, and have thus not had to contend with the cold reality that, whoever she is, she will, like all of us, be inevitably flawed, imperfect, and at least occasionally disappointing.

As she’s grown into her own brand of 21st-century American pop feminism — sometimes elegantly, sometimes gawkily — Swift seems to have come to a firm conviction that female power is essentially more virtuous than the male variety. This was a side of herself she celebrated in her AMA performance. Swift opened her medley with a few fiery bars of “The Man,” her own personalized daydream of what gender equality would look like: “I’m so sick of running as fast as I can,” she sings, “wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man.” She wore an oversize white button-down onto which the titles of her old albums were stamped in a correctional-facility font: SPEAK NOW, RED, 1989, REPUTATION. Plenty of the millions of people who scrutinize Swift’s every move interpreted her choice of outfit and song as not-so-subtle jabs at Big Machine’s Scott Borchetta and the manager-to-the-stars Scooter Braun, with whom Swift is still in a messy, uncommonly public battle over the fate of her master recordings. (The only album title missing from her outfit was “LOVER,” which happens to be the only one of which she has full ownership.) She has framed the terms of her battle with Borchetta and Braun in strikingly gendered language: “These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work,” she told Rolling Stone. “And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of Scotch to themselves.” Though she is herself a very rich, very powerful woman, she reads their message to be unquestionably condescending: Be a good little girl and shut up.

It is true that many record contracts are designed to take advantage of young artists, and that young women and people of color are probably perceived by music executives to be the marks most vulnerable to exploitation. But it is also true that Swift signed a legally binding contract, the kind that a businesswoman like herself would have to respect if it were signed by somebody else. Braun, who has been asking to have these negotiations in private rather than on Twitter, claims to have received death threats from her fans.

Even as she’s grown into one of the most dominant pop-culture figures in the world, Swift sometimes still seems to be clinging to her old underdog identity, to the extent that she can fail to grasp the magnitude of her own power or account for the blind spots of her privilege. “Someday I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,” she sang on Speak Now’s Grammy-winning 2010 single “Mean,” seemingly oblivious to the fact that, compared to 99.99 percent of the population, she already was. The mid-decade backlash to Swift’s thin-white-celebrity-and-model-studded “girl squad” — none of which was more incisive than Lara Marie Schoenhals’s hilarious parody video — took her by surprise. “I never would have imagined that people would have thought, This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it … I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to.”

“Female power” is not automatically faultless, and can of course be tainted by all other sorts of biases and assumptions about class, race, and sexual orientation, to name just a few more common pitfalls. Swift’s face-palm-inducing 2015 misunderstanding with Nicki Minaj revealed this, of course, and plenty of people felt that her sudden embrace of the LGBTQ community in the “You Need to Calm Down” was a clumsy overcorrection for her past silence. Maybe she would have gotten where she was quicker if she were a man. But it would take a more complicated, and perhaps less catchy, song to acknowledge she might not have gotten there at all had she not also enjoyed other privileges.

Art has its own kind of power — sneakier and harder to measure than the economic kind. The reason Taylor Swift has been worth talking about incessantly for an entire decade is that she continues to wield this kind, too. “I don’t think her commercial responsibilities detract from her genuine passion for her craft,” a then-17-year-old Tavi Gevinson wrote in a memorable 2013 essay for The Believer. “Have you ever watched her in interviews when she gets asked about her actual songwriting? She becomes that kid who’s really into the science fair.”

After so much industry drama, much of the lived-in, self-reflective Lover is a simple reminder that Swift was and still is a singular songwriter. Yes, this was the decade of such loud, flashy missteps as “Look What You Made Me Do,” “Welcome to New York,” and “Me!,” but it was also a decade of so many quieter triumphs: the pulsing synesthesia of “Red,” the nervous heart flutter of “Delicate,” the sleek sophistication of “Style,” the concise lyricism of “Mean,” the cathartic fun of “22,” the slow-dance swoon of “Lover.” But like so many of her fans, and even Swift herself, I still find the most enduringly powerful song she’s ever written to be “All Too Well,” the smoldering breakup scrapbook released on her great 2012 album Red. “Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well,” she sings, an innocent enough lyric that, by the end of the song, comes to glint like a switchblade. In a decade of DGAF, ghosting, and performative chill, remembering it all too well might be Swift’s stealthiest superpower. She felt it deeply, can still access that feeling whenever she needs to, and that means she can size you up in a line as concisely cutting as “so casually cruel in the name of being honest.” Forget Jake Gyllenhaal or John Mayer. That’s the sort of observation that would bring Goliath to his knees.

“It is still the case that when listeners hear a female voice, they do not hear a voice that connotes authority,” the historian Mary Beard writes in her manifesto Women & Power, “or rather they have not learned how to hear authority in it.” At least in the realm of pop music, Swift has spent the better part of her decade chipping away at that double standard, and teaching people how to think about cultural power a little bit differently. She sprinkled artful emblems of teen-girl-speak through her smash hits (“Uhhh he calls me and he’s like, ‘I still love you,’ and I’m like, ‘This is exhausting, we are never getting back together, like, ever”) and did not abandon her effusive love of kittens and butterflies in order to be taken seriously. As an artist and a businesswoman, she made the power of teen girls — and the women who used to be them — that much more perilous to ignore. Because they’ve been there all along, and they remember all too well.

[taminoamirfouad]

Vogue Hommes 2019: PRINCE OF MELANCHOLY

By Sophie Rosemont / Photographed by Paolo Roversi / Styled by Anastasia Barbieri  ‘Let’s get together when there’s time,’ he says. ‘I’ve finally taken a break and just been to a week of fashion shows, so I am less anxious than usual’. When you have known the young man since his first EP was released, in 2017, you know he’s not exaggerating. The apparent serenity scarcely hides the tension, the tension of forward-thinking perfectionists, whilst allowing their talent to mature and develop.

Dark eyes, a tall slender figure and jet-black hair, Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad was born in Antwerp of a Belgian mother and Egyptian father. He doesn’t only reflect his mixed origins through his physique. In his music, he calls to mind a form of romantic rock influenced by Nick Cave (even though his high-pitched voice is more suggestive of Jeff Buckley or Thom Yorke) and the melodies of the ancestral East. His grandfather was none other than Moharam Fouad, nicknamed ‘the sound of the Nile’, an extremely popular singer and actor in Egypt. He died when Tamino was a little boy, but he profoundly inspired him: ‘I love his music. And I could identify with what I was told about him. He was obsessed by his work and never stopped singing.’

The artistic tastes of Tamino, who was so named as a tribute to the prince in Mozart’s Magic Flute, date from when he was very young. At the age of eight, he dreamt up a play and asked his little brother to play the main character: ‘I had a specific idea of what I wanted, and when he didn’t acquiesce, I flew into a rage. I was a little dictator! It was then that my parents realized that I had a strong interest in the arts, the theater, etc.’ His mother was a music-lover and always playing the piano. She initiated her son, who, after taking several classical lessons, quickly broke away from the classics: ‘I didn’t have the patience to learn the pieces as I was expected to. I wanted to interpret them differently. I admire the discipline of classical musicians, but my idea was to create a story and embody it, expressing what I wanted to say. It’s an experience. A song you like that transports you, instantly, is instinctive. You don’t know where it comes from. I don’t want to think of that too much when I’m composing, otherwise the spontaneity gets lost, and the pressure rises.’   

After his secondary schooling, he headed to Amsterdam to attend the conservatory there, as it had a reputation for being open-minded. Alone in the Dutch city where he didn’t know a soul, he composed a number of songs in his room. Once they were shared on the Internet, the buzz was such that he went back to Belgium to devote himself to his career. He had offers to perform on stage, on the radio, was invited to appear on TV and given front-row seats at runway shows. No one could resist his young leading man looks straight out of The Arabian Nights. The title of his first album Amir, actually means ‘prince’ in Arabic. Radiohead’s eminent bass player, Colin Greenwood, stars on ‘Indigo Night’ and was one of Tamino’s earliest fans. ‘Habibi,’ with its twilit mood, was an instant hit that revealed his talent for soft velvet folk.

The twelve songs on Amir, recorded with an orchestra of Tunisian, Iraqi and Syrian musicians, speak as much of love as of solitude, sensuality and contemplation, rather like those of Leonard Cohen. ‘He’s the ultimate model, a high-flying poet,’ he sighs. ‘Even though he was a passionate person, he never tried to alter his destiny, he remained elegant whatever the occasion. And, at 80, he was still recording superb albums.’ Tamino also calls to mind Nick Cave, for the corrosive, contagious tenor of his style of rock, but not just that: ‘When he gets up in the morning and puts a suit on. Whether it’s to rehearse, go on stage or get a coffee, he is always impeccably dressed.’ Rather like Tamino, in a more urbane, more understated, style. Tamino’s favorite color is black, which is at the same time romantic, gothic, minimalist, and adaptable, which he likes. 

When you meet him on a cold Paris Fashion Week Saturday, he is trying clothes on at his compatriot Ann Demeulemeester’s, who also dresses Patti Smith and PJ Harvey. ‘With Ann, I understood that a garment could be the extension of who you are, that comfort didn’t exclude the singularity of a look. Today, my creativity varies according to what I’m wearing.’ For Tamino, music inspires fashion and vice versa. ‘A fabric, a cut, an attitude can bring a melody to life. The correspondence between the two seems obvious to me.’ That said, he is far from being obsessed about his appearance. At the moment, he spends his days on the road to promote Amir. Whereas he doesn’t compose when he’s on tour, he reads Dostoyevsky, and the Lebanese poet, Khalil Gibran, whom he quotes: ‘In depth of my soul there is/A wordless song -- a song that lives/In the seed of my heart’ (from ‘Song of the Soul’, 1912). Perhaps a way for Tamino to assert his need to be alone, which is vital to him when he is composing, providing a space for him to exercise his love of words. ‘Even if at first I think about the melodies and the orchestration,’ he says, ‘I can’t imagine that a song doesn’t convey a message, or at least a feeling, that it is empty.’ He hasn’t discarded his childhood dream of being an actor, but says that if he had to take a break from music for a film shoot, the role would really have to be worthwhile.

When asked for what his definition of elegance is, he answers immediately: ‘Being kind to others, respectful, while at the same time being sure of who you are. Recently, I met Yohji Yamamoto. He’s an example of this. He is kind to everyone, relaxed, yet never leaves anything to chance.’ The same chance, or destiny, mektoub in Arabic, that has cast its benign light on Tamino. VOGUE HOMMES

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