Links beyond this blog have been known to expire, sometimes rather quickly. I wish things weren't this way (but they are). I will do what I can to choose wisely (but don't say you weren't warned). Click away!
Well at least you and I both know that this quote doesn't apply to this blog ...
"'The whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, "Is there a meaning to music?' My answer would be, 'Yes.' And 'Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?' My answer to that would be, 'No.'"
Leon Fleisher just seems to get more relevant with each passing year. He recently spoke with Stuart Isacoff for The Wall Street Journal, in part to promote his book, My Nine Lives. Here's a taste:
"Players try to convince us by using body English—they writhe or look up at the ceiling—all to prove how affected they are by the music. They don't realize what a distraction it really is. We are supposed to be impressed by their show of emotion, but in reality they are merely erecting a barrier between the music and my soul."
Seriously, dude? Yes, seriosuly, dude. Last December, baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky jumped out of an airplane to the dulcet tones of Steven Tyler. He posted his jump to his Facebook account (login, but not parachute, required to view).
Bryn Terfel? Roberto Alagna? Matthew Polenzani? The gauntlet has been thrown down, gentlemen. Do you want Karita Mattilla or Renee Fleming to beat you to it?