11 Temmuz 2012 Çarşamba
10 Temmuz 2012 Salı
9 Temmuz 2012 Pazartesi
Rebecca Black's 'Friday' controversy: Video production company says it was 'blindsided' by YouTube removal
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by Tanner StranskyEWRebecca Black’s infamous music video for “Friday” remains pulled from YouTube due to a copyright claim by Black, as the saga surrounding the viral video continues to play out. ARK Music Factory, the company that helped Black create it, has fired back in a statement, claiming that they’re working to resolve a complaint from Black’s representatives.
The statement from ARK’s spokesperson is as follows: “We’re disappointed, having been in good faith negotiations with Rebecca Black and her representatives for months regarding any open issues. There’s been an ongoing, open dialogue with our company. So we were blindsided to get a Take Down Notice — with no notice — alleging copyright infringement instead of a call or email from Rebecca’s representatives.” The company also claims they have rights to the video. “Our use of the video has fully been authorized (as evidenced by four uninterrupted months and 160 million-plus viewings without objection) by both Ms. Black and the copyright holder,” the statement continued. “Regardless, we are going to continue to take the high road and work out the complaint as soon as possible so that the million-plus people who watch Friday for free each day can continue to enjoy the video.”
Finally, ARK ended their statement saying the company was “pleased to have been associated with Rebecca Black, and wish her continued success as she pursues her career,” and noting that company founder Patrice Wilson “discovered, defined, and delivered” the 13-year-old “sensation.”
Reps for Black have not responded to EW for comment, and Black herself has not yet written anything about the current controversy on her Twitter feed or her just-launched Facebook page.
The statement from ARK’s spokesperson is as follows: “We’re disappointed, having been in good faith negotiations with Rebecca Black and her representatives for months regarding any open issues. There’s been an ongoing, open dialogue with our company. So we were blindsided to get a Take Down Notice — with no notice — alleging copyright infringement instead of a call or email from Rebecca’s representatives.” The company also claims they have rights to the video. “Our use of the video has fully been authorized (as evidenced by four uninterrupted months and 160 million-plus viewings without objection) by both Ms. Black and the copyright holder,” the statement continued. “Regardless, we are going to continue to take the high road and work out the complaint as soon as possible so that the million-plus people who watch Friday for free each day can continue to enjoy the video.”
Finally, ARK ended their statement saying the company was “pleased to have been associated with Rebecca Black, and wish her continued success as she pursues her career,” and noting that company founder Patrice Wilson “discovered, defined, and delivered” the 13-year-old “sensation.”
Reps for Black have not responded to EW for comment, and Black herself has not yet written anything about the current controversy on her Twitter feed or her just-launched Facebook page.
Day 24 - Final Waltz and Apotheosis
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We reach the end of our journey. For the final moments of The Nutcracker Petipa asked for a 'grand general coda' with '128 bars of very brilliant and fiery music in 3/4'. Therefore like Act 1, Act 2 also ends with a waltz. But unlike the final bars of the first act, this dance is back in the original B flat major tonality. Everything has come full circle. The penultimate movement's D major (the key, of course, of the second movement in the whole ballet) provides a tertiary modulation back home. Tchaikovsky's waltz is a summation of everything that has occurred in the Kingdom of Sweets. Its metre recalls the Waltz of the Flowers, while its emphasis on the second beat of the bar harks back to the Sarabande rhythms of the Spanish Dance. Again, those minor key colours come through all the time, but like the coda of the pas de deux, jeopardy is kept firmly at bay. After the initial waltz theme, Tchaikovsky has a series of characteristic episodes: double reed woodwind are followed by the celesta and flutes, with a more heroic brass section perhaps recalling the Russian Trepak. The waltz theme returns in yet more outspoken fashion presaging more variegated harmonies and Tchaikovsky's ubiquitous hemiola. In the original ballet, of course, this was a depiction of the world of The Nutcracker as it ends - the Nephew has been released from the wooden toy and returned to the Kingdom of Sweets. In modern productions this tends to be a last hurrah before a swift departure for Nuremberg, where Clara is found asleep under the Christmas Tree and Hans-Peter is reunited with his Uncle Drosselmeyer. The music for the Apotheosis was originally intended to depict 'illuminated fountains' and the celesta returns for those luminous water drops. But by recalling the earlier melody that accompanied Clara's trip over the Sea of Lemonade, Tchaikovsky did perhaps intend to indicate another journey. Whatever conclusion a production chooses, there can be no doubt about Clara's (and our) glee as the score ends in a resolute B flat major.
Today's Track on Spotify.
Click here to order a recording of the complete ballet.
Ricardo Cervera as the Nephew in The Royal Ballet's production of The Nutcracker
Photograph © ROH/Johan Persson
We reach the end of our journey. For the final moments of The Nutcracker Petipa asked for a 'grand general coda' with '128 bars of very brilliant and fiery music in 3/4'. Therefore like Act 1, Act 2 also ends with a waltz. But unlike the final bars of the first act, this dance is back in the original B flat major tonality. Everything has come full circle. The penultimate movement's D major (the key, of course, of the second movement in the whole ballet) provides a tertiary modulation back home. Tchaikovsky's waltz is a summation of everything that has occurred in the Kingdom of Sweets. Its metre recalls the Waltz of the Flowers, while its emphasis on the second beat of the bar harks back to the Sarabande rhythms of the Spanish Dance. Again, those minor key colours come through all the time, but like the coda of the pas de deux, jeopardy is kept firmly at bay. After the initial waltz theme, Tchaikovsky has a series of characteristic episodes: double reed woodwind are followed by the celesta and flutes, with a more heroic brass section perhaps recalling the Russian Trepak. The waltz theme returns in yet more outspoken fashion presaging more variegated harmonies and Tchaikovsky's ubiquitous hemiola. In the original ballet, of course, this was a depiction of the world of The Nutcracker as it ends - the Nephew has been released from the wooden toy and returned to the Kingdom of Sweets. In modern productions this tends to be a last hurrah before a swift departure for Nuremberg, where Clara is found asleep under the Christmas Tree and Hans-Peter is reunited with his Uncle Drosselmeyer. The music for the Apotheosis was originally intended to depict 'illuminated fountains' and the celesta returns for those luminous water drops. But by recalling the earlier melody that accompanied Clara's trip over the Sea of Lemonade, Tchaikovsky did perhaps intend to indicate another journey. Whatever conclusion a production chooses, there can be no doubt about Clara's (and our) glee as the score ends in a resolute B flat major.Today's Track on Spotify.
Click here to order a recording of the complete ballet.
Ricardo Cervera as the Nephew in The Royal Ballet's production of The Nutcracker
Photograph © ROH/Johan Persson
Dead Opera
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Ariadne auf Naxos is set in the house of the richest man in Vienna. As entertainment is provided, things go horribly wrong. But it's all entertaining and ultimately rather moving. In Peter Konwitschny's production of From the House of the Dead (performed at the Wiener Staatsoper for the first time) the setting is the same and performers are provided. Sadly, neither entertainment nor emotion are on the menu.
Rather than Dostoevsky's Siberian prison camp, Konwitschny has transported us to an oligarch's flat - the frontcloth projections suggest today's Vienna. The brutality of the gulags is seemingly akin to the ferocity of high-end bad behaviour capitalism; Goryanchikov becomes the group's bullied plaything. But once the (apparently) Marxist point is made, the concept has nowhere to go. It railroads over the libretto, provides all-too-liberal translations and bars access to an already difficult piece.
Janá�ek's 1928 opera needs all the help it can get. In it, he often bypassed linear narrative in favour of reflective tableaux. It's open-ended nature troubled the composer's students when they discovered the score after his death (erroneously suggesting it was incomplete). But given a clear production, the opera can pack a terrific punch. Konwitschny ignores the warnings. He places his entire cast in black tie and pumps out skewed translations to support his vision. The effect is woefully misleading. And given that Patrice Chéreau's production started at the Wiener Festvochen (in a co-pro with the Holland Festival), it's perplexing as to why the Staatsoper has opted for this arrogant, cynical nonsense.
For all the posturing on stage, the musical performances remain strong. Franz Welser-Möst drives a hard bargain with the Orchester der Wiener Staatsoper. A ferocious overture prepares the ground for harsh exchanges and vivid colouring. Only a passing criticism would be that the musicians make light work of Janá�ek's complex textures; we should feel the effort involved in producing that caustic sound world. Nevertheless, it makes for a rich listening experience.
Sorin Coliban uses that strong orchestral bedrock to project his poetic Goryanchikov. It creates a lyrical counterpoint to the brutality of the opera. Similarly touching is Christopher Maltman's Shishkov. His is a voice in its prime. He offered only a cameo here, but we need to hear Maltman stretched by more diverse repertoire. Herbert Lippert shone as Skuratov, leading an impressive ensemble and strident chorus. Yet however hard they tried, nobody could overcome Konwitschny's die-hard cynicism. Janá�ek wrote that you could not 'extinguish the spark of God' in these characters; the current production at the Staatsoper is a deeply unappealing attempt on the opera's life.
Ariadne auf Naxos is set in the house of the richest man in Vienna. As entertainment is provided, things go horribly wrong. But it's all entertaining and ultimately rather moving. In Peter Konwitschny's production of From the House of the Dead (performed at the Wiener Staatsoper for the first time) the setting is the same and performers are provided. Sadly, neither entertainment nor emotion are on the menu.Rather than Dostoevsky's Siberian prison camp, Konwitschny has transported us to an oligarch's flat - the frontcloth projections suggest today's Vienna. The brutality of the gulags is seemingly akin to the ferocity of high-end bad behaviour capitalism; Goryanchikov becomes the group's bullied plaything. But once the (apparently) Marxist point is made, the concept has nowhere to go. It railroads over the libretto, provides all-too-liberal translations and bars access to an already difficult piece.
Janá�ek's 1928 opera needs all the help it can get. In it, he often bypassed linear narrative in favour of reflective tableaux. It's open-ended nature troubled the composer's students when they discovered the score after his death (erroneously suggesting it was incomplete). But given a clear production, the opera can pack a terrific punch. Konwitschny ignores the warnings. He places his entire cast in black tie and pumps out skewed translations to support his vision. The effect is woefully misleading. And given that Patrice Chéreau's production started at the Wiener Festvochen (in a co-pro with the Holland Festival), it's perplexing as to why the Staatsoper has opted for this arrogant, cynical nonsense.
For all the posturing on stage, the musical performances remain strong. Franz Welser-Möst drives a hard bargain with the Orchester der Wiener Staatsoper. A ferocious overture prepares the ground for harsh exchanges and vivid colouring. Only a passing criticism would be that the musicians make light work of Janá�ek's complex textures; we should feel the effort involved in producing that caustic sound world. Nevertheless, it makes for a rich listening experience.
Sorin Coliban uses that strong orchestral bedrock to project his poetic Goryanchikov. It creates a lyrical counterpoint to the brutality of the opera. Similarly touching is Christopher Maltman's Shishkov. His is a voice in its prime. He offered only a cameo here, but we need to hear Maltman stretched by more diverse repertoire. Herbert Lippert shone as Skuratov, leading an impressive ensemble and strident chorus. Yet however hard they tried, nobody could overcome Konwitschny's die-hard cynicism. Janá�ek wrote that you could not 'extinguish the spark of God' in these characters; the current production at the Staatsoper is a deeply unappealing attempt on the opera's life.
Winter Dreams
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"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories." Or so An Affair to Remember reminds us. And there is certainly a pervasive chill over the Kunsthistorisches Museum at the moment. The Wintermärchen exhibition offers a vast collation of images inspired by the darkest and coldest months of the year. While there's plenty of cheer against the elements, by the 20th century a more dangerous elision of man and his environment has returned.
Winter has its own mythology. The nativity, an old man warming his hands by a fire with a well-stocked table, the feasts, the slaughtered pig. From the clock faces of the medieval period to Joseph Beuys' own invented self-mythology, the season has created its own images and codes. The exhibition is a grand unlocking of those signifiers and, although it is somewhat crammed with examples, the simple chronology invites further investigation.
The work of the Breugel family dominates the early part of the exhibition, not only by their inherent drama, but through the vividness of their depictions. As the medieval period gives way to the excesses of the 16th and 17th century, the harshness of those canvases - not least the brutal slaughter of the innocents - turns to Rubens and his fecund feasts. Here a corpulent bean king stuffs his face.
Perhaps the most ostentatious work on display is the two sleighs from the late 18th and early 19th century. Gilded gliding fantasies with harnesses studded with bells, winter provided just another excuse to show off. And although they cannot compete with Turner's apocalyptic depiction of Hannibal crossing the Alps, David's picture of Napoleon following in his footsteps seems like a polite society portrait next to these golden playthings.
The real chill sets in after such glitzy glamour and Monet's gestural canvases offer more existential frigidity. Rivers burst their banks and water, ice and snow become one, distinguished only by the smallest shift in brush stroke. And there's an aesthetic cool to Carl Moll's picture of his studio on the Theresianumgasse. Placed in the top right-hand corner of the canvas, the studio appears like a fevered imago in a desolate white waste. Just the kind of place that you'd find Joseph Beuys' 'Schlitten'. Like Schubert's Leiermann, Monet, Moll and Beuys appear trapped in their frosty landscapes. And its with that deathly chill that you leave this dizzyingly encyclopaedic Winterreise.
"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories." Or so An Affair to Remember reminds us. And there is certainly a pervasive chill over the Kunsthistorisches Museum at the moment. The Wintermärchen exhibition offers a vast collation of images inspired by the darkest and coldest months of the year. While there's plenty of cheer against the elements, by the 20th century a more dangerous elision of man and his environment has returned.Winter has its own mythology. The nativity, an old man warming his hands by a fire with a well-stocked table, the feasts, the slaughtered pig. From the clock faces of the medieval period to Joseph Beuys' own invented self-mythology, the season has created its own images and codes. The exhibition is a grand unlocking of those signifiers and, although it is somewhat crammed with examples, the simple chronology invites further investigation.
The work of the Breugel family dominates the early part of the exhibition, not only by their inherent drama, but through the vividness of their depictions. As the medieval period gives way to the excesses of the 16th and 17th century, the harshness of those canvases - not least the brutal slaughter of the innocents - turns to Rubens and his fecund feasts. Here a corpulent bean king stuffs his face.
Perhaps the most ostentatious work on display is the two sleighs from the late 18th and early 19th century. Gilded gliding fantasies with harnesses studded with bells, winter provided just another excuse to show off. And although they cannot compete with Turner's apocalyptic depiction of Hannibal crossing the Alps, David's picture of Napoleon following in his footsteps seems like a polite society portrait next to these golden playthings.The real chill sets in after such glitzy glamour and Monet's gestural canvases offer more existential frigidity. Rivers burst their banks and water, ice and snow become one, distinguished only by the smallest shift in brush stroke. And there's an aesthetic cool to Carl Moll's picture of his studio on the Theresianumgasse. Placed in the top right-hand corner of the canvas, the studio appears like a fevered imago in a desolate white waste. Just the kind of place that you'd find Joseph Beuys' 'Schlitten'. Like Schubert's Leiermann, Monet, Moll and Beuys appear trapped in their frosty landscapes. And its with that deathly chill that you leave this dizzyingly encyclopaedic Winterreise.
Blasts from the Past
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Angelo Soliman is like Humpty Dumpty. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put him back together again. But the Wien Museum has attempted reassembly with its latest exhibition. Ironically, such a process has to divide myth and reality. Who was he? A West African slave, brought to Vienna through Sicily, Soliman became a trusted and respected figure in Enlightenment Vienna. After his death, however, he was exhibited in the Imperial Natural History collections as an exotic. As immigration arguments in Austria reach new intensity, the Wien Museum's Soliman exhibition offers historical guidance.
Soliman begins and ends with a cliché. No Austrians had been to Africa. It was a place where enormous monsters roamed the earth and the people wore fantastical clothing. It was 'other', sexual and ornamental (all depicted in gloriously un-PC imagery). By the time that slaves had arrived in Vienna, the distance between origin and orientalism had only widened. Despite expectation, Soliman gained a relatively privileged position in Viennese society. Normally, once an African slave hit puberty, they were cast out to fend for themselves. And although pictures show him as a dwarf or child servant, he was an adult in service to both Prince Lobkowitz and later the Liechtenstein family. He's depicted in the latter Prince's retinue as he goes to woo a wife and the bill for Soliman's uniform lies next to that picture (in one of many brilliant bits of intense research evident in the exhibition).
Winning a huge amount of money by gambling, Soliman married, bought a house and became an independent man (and was fired by the Liechtensteins for breaking contract). A page from a Masonic Lodge guestbook reveals that he spent time with Mozart. He was the quintessence of Enlightenment thinking. And the Liechtensteins asked him to work with them again towards the end of his life. But after his death, the Enlightenment figure became the exotic cliché once more. Soliman's body was placed in a ludicrous savage's costume and displayed for all to see. Whether as revenge for 'inappropriate' assimilation or for curiosity's sake, Soliman the reality disappeared.
To tell this story, an exhibition needs clarity and space and curator Philipp Blom and his team guide us deftly through cliché to reality (and back again). The final section of the exhibition - linking the racial stereotypes of Soliman's lifetime with those of more recent decades in Vienna - perhaps overstates its case. But it offers an essential bridge to the present day and a final film installation where black Viennese residents talk about their stories and the tolerance (or lack thereof) around them. Have we learned from history? The hushed but powerful question hovers over the exhibition. With immigration debates still raging between the SPÖ and FPÖ, Soliman offers an essential blast from the past.
Angelo Soliman is like Humpty Dumpty. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put him back together again. But the Wien Museum has attempted reassembly with its latest exhibition. Ironically, such a process has to divide myth and reality. Who was he? A West African slave, brought to Vienna through Sicily, Soliman became a trusted and respected figure in Enlightenment Vienna. After his death, however, he was exhibited in the Imperial Natural History collections as an exotic. As immigration arguments in Austria reach new intensity, the Wien Museum's Soliman exhibition offers historical guidance.Soliman begins and ends with a cliché. No Austrians had been to Africa. It was a place where enormous monsters roamed the earth and the people wore fantastical clothing. It was 'other', sexual and ornamental (all depicted in gloriously un-PC imagery). By the time that slaves had arrived in Vienna, the distance between origin and orientalism had only widened. Despite expectation, Soliman gained a relatively privileged position in Viennese society. Normally, once an African slave hit puberty, they were cast out to fend for themselves. And although pictures show him as a dwarf or child servant, he was an adult in service to both Prince Lobkowitz and later the Liechtenstein family. He's depicted in the latter Prince's retinue as he goes to woo a wife and the bill for Soliman's uniform lies next to that picture (in one of many brilliant bits of intense research evident in the exhibition).
Winning a huge amount of money by gambling, Soliman married, bought a house and became an independent man (and was fired by the Liechtensteins for breaking contract). A page from a Masonic Lodge guestbook reveals that he spent time with Mozart. He was the quintessence of Enlightenment thinking. And the Liechtensteins asked him to work with them again towards the end of his life. But after his death, the Enlightenment figure became the exotic cliché once more. Soliman's body was placed in a ludicrous savage's costume and displayed for all to see. Whether as revenge for 'inappropriate' assimilation or for curiosity's sake, Soliman the reality disappeared.To tell this story, an exhibition needs clarity and space and curator Philipp Blom and his team guide us deftly through cliché to reality (and back again). The final section of the exhibition - linking the racial stereotypes of Soliman's lifetime with those of more recent decades in Vienna - perhaps overstates its case. But it offers an essential bridge to the present day and a final film installation where black Viennese residents talk about their stories and the tolerance (or lack thereof) around them. Have we learned from history? The hushed but powerful question hovers over the exhibition. With immigration debates still raging between the SPÖ and FPÖ, Soliman offers an essential blast from the past.
8 Temmuz 2012 Pazar
Returning Home?
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It's strange about seeing a picture out of context. I often go into the National Gallery to view Britain's only Klimt - a 1904 portrait of Hermine Gallia. But at the moment you can't see it in London, because it's come to Vienna to be displayed alongside other Klimts and Josef Hoffmann artefacts in an exhibition at the Unteres Belvedere. Seeing it in, what are for me, foreign surroundings was strange. I half expected to walk out of the room onto Trafalgar Square. Of course, it is a return home for the painting. Klimt 'belongs' in Vienna. Like those Aciman 'Shadow City' moments, whenever I see the painting in London it reminds me of Vienna. Seeing it here in Vienna, reminded me of London and the glories of the National Gallery. Loans. Restitution. Returning pictures to those to whom they belong. Adele Bloch-Bauer. The Elgin Marbles. How tedious it would be if all art works were back in their places of origin (largely because they wouldn't be in public collections where people could see them). But there's still a strange tug of the that location on the picture in its new home and vice versa. The 'Beethoven Frieze' also seemed out of place in the Belvedere (although it's officially in their collection). The Secession must surely feel bereft of that masterpiece created for its spaces. But these are just my own projections of homelessness.
It's strange about seeing a picture out of context. I often go into the National Gallery to view Britain's only Klimt - a 1904 portrait of Hermine Gallia. But at the moment you can't see it in London, because it's come to Vienna to be displayed alongside other Klimts and Josef Hoffmann artefacts in an exhibition at the Unteres Belvedere. Seeing it in, what are for me, foreign surroundings was strange. I half expected to walk out of the room onto Trafalgar Square. Of course, it is a return home for the painting. Klimt 'belongs' in Vienna. Like those Aciman 'Shadow City' moments, whenever I see the painting in London it reminds me of Vienna. Seeing it here in Vienna, reminded me of London and the glories of the National Gallery. Loans. Restitution. Returning pictures to those to whom they belong. Adele Bloch-Bauer. The Elgin Marbles. How tedious it would be if all art works were back in their places of origin (largely because they wouldn't be in public collections where people could see them). But there's still a strange tug of the that location on the picture in its new home and vice versa. The 'Beethoven Frieze' also seemed out of place in the Belvedere (although it's officially in their collection). The Secession must surely feel bereft of that masterpiece created for its spaces. But these are just my own projections of homelessness.
In praise of the Hawelka
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There are hundreds of Kaffehäuser, but for many the Café Leopold Hawelka (or just the Hawelka for short) has a special claim. It's been untrammelled by the snares of modernisation (though the recent addition of free WiFi is certainly a boon). Although immaculate, it wears its history on its slightly grimy sleeve. The posters that crowd the wall range from the bang up-to-date to the faded glories of the late 20th century. The telephone booth has the whiff of John Le Carré and the strong smell of Hausblend permeates across the dark space. All in all, atmosphere is everything at the Hawelka.
It was a great sadness, then, to hear on arriving in Vienna last week that Herr Hawelka had died. His 100 years of life witnessed everything from the collapse of the Empire, the attrition of the Great War, the establishment of a Republic, the rise of the Nazis, his own time in the Wehrmacht, the battle of Stalingrad and a return to a broken Vienna. Leopold had opened the café before the war, but it was only in 1945 that the place really hit is stride. Just a stone's throw from Stephansplatz, it would become the haunt of the disgruntled artist, the conductor, the playwright, the office worker and the tourist.
Sitting in the Hawelka last week, there was a sense of continued history, despite Leopold's absence. After the death of Frau Hawelka, Leopold began to take a slightly more back seat attitude to the café, though his presence on the morning shift (or in the photos on the walls) often belied a handover. You might be pushed to imagine that among the throngs of regulars are the geniuses of tomorrow, but there is something timeless about the great institution. As we sat there drinking another glass of Averna, Hawelka's legacy seemed primed to continue for a century after his death.
Click here to read an obituary of Leopold Hawelka (1911-2011) from the 30th December edition of the Daily Telegraph.
There are hundreds of Kaffehäuser, but for many the Café Leopold Hawelka (or just the Hawelka for short) has a special claim. It's been untrammelled by the snares of modernisation (though the recent addition of free WiFi is certainly a boon). Although immaculate, it wears its history on its slightly grimy sleeve. The posters that crowd the wall range from the bang up-to-date to the faded glories of the late 20th century. The telephone booth has the whiff of John Le Carré and the strong smell of Hausblend permeates across the dark space. All in all, atmosphere is everything at the Hawelka.It was a great sadness, then, to hear on arriving in Vienna last week that Herr Hawelka had died. His 100 years of life witnessed everything from the collapse of the Empire, the attrition of the Great War, the establishment of a Republic, the rise of the Nazis, his own time in the Wehrmacht, the battle of Stalingrad and a return to a broken Vienna. Leopold had opened the café before the war, but it was only in 1945 that the place really hit is stride. Just a stone's throw from Stephansplatz, it would become the haunt of the disgruntled artist, the conductor, the playwright, the office worker and the tourist.
Sitting in the Hawelka last week, there was a sense of continued history, despite Leopold's absence. After the death of Frau Hawelka, Leopold began to take a slightly more back seat attitude to the café, though his presence on the morning shift (or in the photos on the walls) often belied a handover. You might be pushed to imagine that among the throngs of regulars are the geniuses of tomorrow, but there is something timeless about the great institution. As we sat there drinking another glass of Averna, Hawelka's legacy seemed primed to continue for a century after his death.Click here to read an obituary of Leopold Hawelka (1911-2011) from the 30th December edition of the Daily Telegraph.
You cannot dream things lovelier
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Michael Head is an unaffected composer. Eschewing the harmonic twists of Warlock and, thankfully, Vaughan Williams' modish modality, his songs offer heartfelt utterances from a cluttered century. The great achievement of Hyperion Records new release of 27 of his songs is that they are delivered with untrammelled sincerity. It is a rich and rare disc.
Head will never turns heads. He's a moderate conservative, with a varied taste in poetry and a ballad-like approach to form and sound. While his contemporaries went into the dark recesses of the English psyche, the younger Head preferred a more relaxed and melancholic vein. Roderick Williams is the perfect protagonist for his tales. His fond remembrance in 'Limehouse Reach' and the open appeal of 'Lean out of the window' are a genuine joy to behold.
While Head attempts a more astringent sound world in 'The Viper', it can feel somewhat ersatz when compared with Britten's contemporaneous work. But there's atmosphere aplenty in Catherine Wyn-Rogers' Three Songs of Venice. Her and Williams' ease of communication matches Head's style perfectly. Ailish Tynan is perhaps a little too skittish with occasional blurs in diction, though she too sings beautifully.
Throughout, none of the singers overstates their case and Christopher Glynn is the model of coherence and care at the piano. Collectively, they are great exponents for this handsome list of songs. From the parlando ease of the Margaret Rose poems 'Star Candles' and 'The little road to Bethlehem' to the bravado of 'Tewkesbury Road', this is a great testament to an unpresuming gem of a composer. Click here to order a copy.
Michael Head is an unaffected composer. Eschewing the harmonic twists of Warlock and, thankfully, Vaughan Williams' modish modality, his songs offer heartfelt utterances from a cluttered century. The great achievement of Hyperion Records new release of 27 of his songs is that they are delivered with untrammelled sincerity. It is a rich and rare disc.Head will never turns heads. He's a moderate conservative, with a varied taste in poetry and a ballad-like approach to form and sound. While his contemporaries went into the dark recesses of the English psyche, the younger Head preferred a more relaxed and melancholic vein. Roderick Williams is the perfect protagonist for his tales. His fond remembrance in 'Limehouse Reach' and the open appeal of 'Lean out of the window' are a genuine joy to behold.
While Head attempts a more astringent sound world in 'The Viper', it can feel somewhat ersatz when compared with Britten's contemporaneous work. But there's atmosphere aplenty in Catherine Wyn-Rogers' Three Songs of Venice. Her and Williams' ease of communication matches Head's style perfectly. Ailish Tynan is perhaps a little too skittish with occasional blurs in diction, though she too sings beautifully.
Throughout, none of the singers overstates their case and Christopher Glynn is the model of coherence and care at the piano. Collectively, they are great exponents for this handsome list of songs. From the parlando ease of the Margaret Rose poems 'Star Candles' and 'The little road to Bethlehem' to the bravado of 'Tewkesbury Road', this is a great testament to an unpresuming gem of a composer. Click here to order a copy.
18 Centuries of Wow
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The new incarnations and offshoots of Tate and the Gulbenkian aside, most of us weren't alive when the major galleries of this world celebrated their 10th anniversaries. Great collections stand the test of time. Many tramp through their hallways, gawp at their splendours and amass their postcards in a desperate attempt to relive the experience. The Neue Galerie in New York is a little different. It opened in 2001 and has since made a massive impression on Museum Mile. Presenting cross-cultural exhibitions, cabaret, lectures and its own fantastic collection of fin-de-siècle art, it has become one of the go-to exhibition spaces in New York City in just a decade. The catalogue for its 10th Anniversary exhibition is a hefty testament to its ability to punch above its weight.
Like Henry Tate, who laid the foundations for the British gallery's vast collection, the Neue Galerie built its leading range of Austrian and German paintings around one man's vision. Ronald S. Lauder (the son of Estée) amassed his precious collection through years of seizing rare opportunities. One of his providers was a singularly brilliant dealer called Serge Sabarsky (honoured by the museum in the name of its glorious café). The rest is history. Klimts were bought for eye-widening sums and displayed with great panache in the Neue's chic 5th Avenue home.
For their 10th anniversary, the Neue Galerie has broadened that remit. They've been led from the top. Lauder's collection stretches some 16 centuries back before Klimt was even a twinkle in his mother's eye. Medieval art works, Old Masters, Armoury, Picassos and Post-War German painting all rub shoulders with the more familiar elements of the Neue Galerie collection. And until 2 April, you can see this all displayed in its galleries.
For those of us unable to travel to New York, Prestel has issued a 500-page tome in response. Not only is it good for upper body strength, but is a remarkable testament to one man's taste, wealth and generosity. Accompanied with essays by leading writers in all the fields of Lauder's taste - no mean feat - this is a great book. There's a sense of celebration that runs through the volume (and, no doubt, the exhibition). The single reason that a catalogue and exhibition as important as this one can exist is down to that one man's munificence.
As the Liechtenstein family closes the doors to its collection in Vienna (claiming lack of public interest) and tax payers' support becomes increasingly precarious we cannot take such big gestures for granted. And although it would be a terrible shame if the European subsidised model waned, Lauder and the Neue Galerie present a truly impressive version of the philanthropist's vision. Get to New York if you can but, if you can't, this 10th Anniversary catalogue is a veritable keepsake. Click here to order a copy.
The new incarnations and offshoots of Tate and the Gulbenkian aside, most of us weren't alive when the major galleries of this world celebrated their 10th anniversaries. Great collections stand the test of time. Many tramp through their hallways, gawp at their splendours and amass their postcards in a desperate attempt to relive the experience. The Neue Galerie in New York is a little different. It opened in 2001 and has since made a massive impression on Museum Mile. Presenting cross-cultural exhibitions, cabaret, lectures and its own fantastic collection of fin-de-siècle art, it has become one of the go-to exhibition spaces in New York City in just a decade. The catalogue for its 10th Anniversary exhibition is a hefty testament to its ability to punch above its weight. Like Henry Tate, who laid the foundations for the British gallery's vast collection, the Neue Galerie built its leading range of Austrian and German paintings around one man's vision. Ronald S. Lauder (the son of Estée) amassed his precious collection through years of seizing rare opportunities. One of his providers was a singularly brilliant dealer called Serge Sabarsky (honoured by the museum in the name of its glorious café). The rest is history. Klimts were bought for eye-widening sums and displayed with great panache in the Neue's chic 5th Avenue home.
For their 10th anniversary, the Neue Galerie has broadened that remit. They've been led from the top. Lauder's collection stretches some 16 centuries back before Klimt was even a twinkle in his mother's eye. Medieval art works, Old Masters, Armoury, Picassos and Post-War German painting all rub shoulders with the more familiar elements of the Neue Galerie collection. And until 2 April, you can see this all displayed in its galleries.
For those of us unable to travel to New York, Prestel has issued a 500-page tome in response. Not only is it good for upper body strength, but is a remarkable testament to one man's taste, wealth and generosity. Accompanied with essays by leading writers in all the fields of Lauder's taste - no mean feat - this is a great book. There's a sense of celebration that runs through the volume (and, no doubt, the exhibition). The single reason that a catalogue and exhibition as important as this one can exist is down to that one man's munificence.As the Liechtenstein family closes the doors to its collection in Vienna (claiming lack of public interest) and tax payers' support becomes increasingly precarious we cannot take such big gestures for granted. And although it would be a terrible shame if the European subsidised model waned, Lauder and the Neue Galerie present a truly impressive version of the philanthropist's vision. Get to New York if you can but, if you can't, this 10th Anniversary catalogue is a veritable keepsake. Click here to order a copy.
Heroism Personified
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Your head might explode in the final track of Slavic Heroes. Bombarded by treacly tones and the lush eroticism of Szymanowski's Król Roger, this is heady stuff indeed. But it's just one of many such treats on Mariusz Kwiecień's new recording. Recital discs can be hit and miss. Too heavily themed and they appear gimmicky. Without a clear subject, they are vague vehicles. Here language is the only link. But from the familiar passages of Eugene Onegin to rarities by Smetana, Moniuszko and Dvořák, Kwiecień shows that he is truly a voice to reckon with.
For the first time, Harmonia Mundi has extended is production outfit to the UK. A surprising choice, then, to go to Poland. But if talent and quality are the only criteria, they have chosen well. The Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra (under �ukasz Borowicz) provides a luscious soundscape. Given the weight and wealth of Kwiecień's voice, they are placed prominently in the mix. The sound is occasionally a little too velvety, as there's more steel in this music than the recording lets on.
But it's a tiny price to pay for the bounties it affords. After the anaemic anti-hero of ENO's recent Onegin, Kwiecień is sex personified. The sheer lyrical arrogance of his dismissal of Tatyana breaks your heart. And, as if playing the opera for real, his Act 3 aria is palpably neurotic. Yet he can just as easily turn his hand to the spirited aria from Moniuszko's Haunted Manor or the vast otherworldliness of Szymanowski. I cannot wait to hear Kwiecień performing these roles live. Click here to order a copy.
Your head might explode in the final track of Slavic Heroes. Bombarded by treacly tones and the lush eroticism of Szymanowski's Król Roger, this is heady stuff indeed. But it's just one of many such treats on Mariusz Kwiecień's new recording. Recital discs can be hit and miss. Too heavily themed and they appear gimmicky. Without a clear subject, they are vague vehicles. Here language is the only link. But from the familiar passages of Eugene Onegin to rarities by Smetana, Moniuszko and Dvořák, Kwiecień shows that he is truly a voice to reckon with. For the first time, Harmonia Mundi has extended is production outfit to the UK. A surprising choice, then, to go to Poland. But if talent and quality are the only criteria, they have chosen well. The Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra (under �ukasz Borowicz) provides a luscious soundscape. Given the weight and wealth of Kwiecień's voice, they are placed prominently in the mix. The sound is occasionally a little too velvety, as there's more steel in this music than the recording lets on.
But it's a tiny price to pay for the bounties it affords. After the anaemic anti-hero of ENO's recent Onegin, Kwiecień is sex personified. The sheer lyrical arrogance of his dismissal of Tatyana breaks your heart. And, as if playing the opera for real, his Act 3 aria is palpably neurotic. Yet he can just as easily turn his hand to the spirited aria from Moniuszko's Haunted Manor or the vast otherworldliness of Szymanowski. I cannot wait to hear Kwiecień performing these roles live. Click here to order a copy.
7 Temmuz 2012 Cumartesi
Dubai fashion students to showcase at the Whos Next
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Edited by Sarah Khan
Fashion students from the Dubai campus of the French Fashion University Esmod, the only dedicated fashion school in the region, will have the opportunity to showcase their creations at the WHO'S NEXT & PREMIERE CLASSE fashion trade show in Dubai after a partnership agreement was sealed between the university and the trade fair's organisers.
WHO'S NEXT & PREMIERE CLASSE is the first multisector fashion fair in the Middle East, celebrating creations of all forms. The event will gather more than 200 brands, including urban labels, women brands and accessory designers who will be displaying their top creations at the Dubai World Trade Center from October 11 to 13, 2009. French Fashion University Esmod will exhibit the work of its fashion students at Stand A40.
"The trade show will parade an international selection, including several creations from French designers who will make up around 40 per cent of exhibitors. This will be a very good venue for the students to learn directly from the most prominent names in the business. Moreover, the trade fair will help us create awareness among high-profile international exhibitors that there is a highly-focused fashion school and a growing talent pool in the Gulf," said Tamara Hostal, Director and Founder, French Fashion University Esmod.
"Our students will also benefit from this event through internships and other career-development opportunities that will be offered by leading French designers. There are some extremely talented young people in the Middle East who really deserve such an opportunity. In addition, we are also looking forward to invite some of the prominent designers to conduct lectures for our students," added Mrs. Hostal.
Esmod Dubai's participation at the WHO'S NEXT & PREMIERE CLASSE is part of several activities organised by the university to open new horizons for the region's fashion minds and nurture a greater number of fashionistas to represent the Arab region in the fashion world. The fashion university earlier concluded a high-profile fashion show at Wafi mall involving the school's first graduating batch.
"FFU will continue to find innovative ways to nurture the raw talent of our students and encourage them to follow their dreams by opening opportunities to enhance their learning experience and help them succeed in the fashion world. We want students to gain a lot of practical experience about how the industry functions to adequately prepare them to face the challenges in the real world," concluded Mrs. Hostal.
Since its inception in 2006, Esmod Dubai has been accommodating a steadily growing number of students in its mission to capitalize on the region's booming fashion industry and the steady drift of the Middle Eastern consumer towards haute couture. The Dubai campus now embraces students from 47 different countries, of which over 40 per cent are GCC nationals and UAE locals. The number of students is expected to further grow this year as the university has planned several initiatives to help its graduates find attractive job opportunities with globally known fashion names.
Global Arab Network
Edited by Sarah Khan
Fashion students from the Dubai campus of the French Fashion University Esmod, the only dedicated fashion school in the region, will have the opportunity to showcase their creations at the WHO'S NEXT & PREMIERE CLASSE fashion trade show in Dubai after a partnership agreement was sealed between the university and the trade fair's organisers.
WHO'S NEXT & PREMIERE CLASSE is the first multisector fashion fair in the Middle East, celebrating creations of all forms. The event will gather more than 200 brands, including urban labels, women brands and accessory designers who will be displaying their top creations at the Dubai World Trade Center from October 11 to 13, 2009. French Fashion University Esmod will exhibit the work of its fashion students at Stand A40.
"The trade show will parade an international selection, including several creations from French designers who will make up around 40 per cent of exhibitors. This will be a very good venue for the students to learn directly from the most prominent names in the business. Moreover, the trade fair will help us create awareness among high-profile international exhibitors that there is a highly-focused fashion school and a growing talent pool in the Gulf," said Tamara Hostal, Director and Founder, French Fashion University Esmod.
"Our students will also benefit from this event through internships and other career-development opportunities that will be offered by leading French designers. There are some extremely talented young people in the Middle East who really deserve such an opportunity. In addition, we are also looking forward to invite some of the prominent designers to conduct lectures for our students," added Mrs. Hostal.
Esmod Dubai's participation at the WHO'S NEXT & PREMIERE CLASSE is part of several activities organised by the university to open new horizons for the region's fashion minds and nurture a greater number of fashionistas to represent the Arab region in the fashion world. The fashion university earlier concluded a high-profile fashion show at Wafi mall involving the school's first graduating batch.
"FFU will continue to find innovative ways to nurture the raw talent of our students and encourage them to follow their dreams by opening opportunities to enhance their learning experience and help them succeed in the fashion world. We want students to gain a lot of practical experience about how the industry functions to adequately prepare them to face the challenges in the real world," concluded Mrs. Hostal.
Since its inception in 2006, Esmod Dubai has been accommodating a steadily growing number of students in its mission to capitalize on the region's booming fashion industry and the steady drift of the Middle Eastern consumer towards haute couture. The Dubai campus now embraces students from 47 different countries, of which over 40 per cent are GCC nationals and UAE locals. The number of students is expected to further grow this year as the university has planned several initiatives to help its graduates find attractive job opportunities with globally known fashion names.
Global Arab Network
'American Idol' recap: Duel at the Nokia Theater
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Earlier in the season, Randy Jackson told Lauren Alaina that the young contestant reminded him of a Carrie Underwood-Kelly Clarkson hybrid. And weeks later, during Tuesday night's finale, Idol did its darndest to remind us of this very comparison. Lauren sings a Carrie song! Carrie chooses a song for Lauren! Random precious footage of Carrie (and David Cook, but strangely, no other Idol winners) as a youngster just prior to precious footage of Lauren as a child! Vocal troubles, just like Kelly during season 1's finale! The comparison to the season 4 winner was so subliminal, I found myself several times accidentally typing "Carrie" in my notes instead of "Lauren." How to explain the sudden urge to watch Minute To Win It and buy a Filet-O-Fish -- that I can't quite explain.But it makes sense for Idol producers to push a Lauren win for season 10. After all, we're looking at a perfect reality show storyline here: Sweet Southern Belle who dreamed of winning Idol as a child grows up to nab the title of our American Idol -- but only after overcoming a health struggle that almost pushed her out of the competition. That's right: Just prior to the show, rumors hit the Web claiming that Haley would replace an ailing Lauren. (Oh, what a tease!) But according to Idol's resident doctor, after Lauren sprained a vocal cord while pushing her voice in rehearsals, she was deemed healthy enough to compete.
Earlier in the season, Randy Jackson told Lauren Alaina that the young contestant reminded him of a Carrie Underwood-Kelly Clarkson hybrid. And weeks later, during Tuesday night's finale, Idol did its darndest to remind us of this very comparison. Lauren sings a Carrie song! Carrie chooses a song for Lauren! Random precious footage of Carrie (and David Cook, but strangely, no other Idol winners) as a youngster just prior to precious footage of Lauren as a child! Vocal troubles, just like Kelly during season 1's finale! The comparison to the season 4 winner was so subliminal, I found myself several times accidentally typing "Carrie" in my notes instead of "Lauren." How to explain the sudden urge to watch Minute To Win It and buy a Filet-O-Fish -- that I can't quite explain.But it makes sense for Idol producers to push a Lauren win for season 10. After all, we're looking at a perfect reality show storyline here: Sweet Southern Belle who dreamed of winning Idol as a child grows up to nab the title of our American Idol -- but only after overcoming a health struggle that almost pushed her out of the competition. That's right: Just prior to the show, rumors hit the Web claiming that Haley would replace an ailing Lauren. (Oh, what a tease!) But according to Idol's resident doctor, after Lauren sprained a vocal cord while pushing her voice in rehearsals, she was deemed healthy enough to compete.
Turkish melodramas swaying Arab TV audiences
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By EMAN EL SHENAWI Al ArabiyaTurkish television melodramas have swept the Arab world with their racy episodes of drama, romance and controversy. In some cases, they have become an obsession for Arab audiences causing them sometimes to shun Arabic soap operas.
The Turkish TV shows, which are crammed with taboos subjects such as alcohol, premarital sex and abortion. These subjects aren’t typically featured in Arabic-language television shows.
“Arabic soaps no longer interest me, they are becoming too repetitive” said Marwa Al Kubanji, a Londoner from Iraq who is an avid fan of the Turkish shows. “They focus on violence and morals; almost teaching us what is right and wrong in life—they are too patronizing and dull.”
Instead, she said that Turkish programs run deep, centering on emotional dilemmas and conflicts of the heart. These are amplified with storylines that show Western norms clashing with the traditional backgrounds of the Muslim characters, she added.
“I was shocked that these things were being broadcast on Arabic television when I first started watching ‘Noor’ three years ago,” she said.
Noor, (originally titled Gumus in Turkish) was the first Turkish soap opera dubbed in Arabic. It told a rags-to-riches story of a woman who married into a wealthy family but was rejected by her husband, who had another love interest. Noor attracted more than 85 million Arab viewers above the age of 15—nearly 50 million of them were women, according to a report on Turkish soap operas by the Turkish newspaper Hurriyet. Those 50 million are the equivalent to more than half of the adult Arab female viewers of any Arab TV drama in recent years.
The popularity of the Turkish shows among Arab viewers isn’t surprising, said Sengul Ozerkan, a professor of television and a cultural commentator in Istanbul. “Turkey always acts like an intermediary between the West and the Middle East,” she said in a Euromonitor report this week.The Saudi cleric Sheikh Saleh al-Luhaidan, however, denounced Noor. He said the program represented a “war” on Muslim virtues since it portrayed Muslim characters living in a largely secular Turkey.
Enas Mohammed, a scriptwriter based in London and a frequent viewer of Turkish dramas, said that although current Arabic soaps are relatively bland and repetitive in comparison to Turkey’s productions, the Arabs would catch up.
“We are beginning to see more daring story lines in Egyptian films, including those made for television. Some of them are focusing on fiery subjects with emotive angles,” Ms. Mohammed said.
She mentioned the film Al-Shawq, an Egyptian film that follows the trials of a woman who turned to begging on the streets of Egypt to be able to provide for her two daughters and an ill husband. It won the Golden Pyramid at the 34th Cairo International Film Festival in December 2010.
But it’s Turkey that still churns out the most melodramatic of the dramas, with programs such as Ask-i Memnu, Izel, Yaprak Dokumu, Kurtlar Vadisi, Asmali Konak and Ihlamurlar Altinda. These are currently showing on Arab television channels.
Last year, a total of 22 countries imported Turkish television series. The Hurriyet study found that since Turkey started to export its shows in 2006, sales have exceeded $3 million annually with the Arab world, Greece and Brazil being the top markets.
(Eman El Shenawi of Al Arabiya can be reached at: eman.elshenawi@mbc.net)
By EMAN EL SHENAWI Al ArabiyaTurkish television melodramas have swept the Arab world with their racy episodes of drama, romance and controversy. In some cases, they have become an obsession for Arab audiences causing them sometimes to shun Arabic soap operas.The Turkish TV shows, which are crammed with taboos subjects such as alcohol, premarital sex and abortion. These subjects aren’t typically featured in Arabic-language television shows.
“Arabic soaps no longer interest me, they are becoming too repetitive” said Marwa Al Kubanji, a Londoner from Iraq who is an avid fan of the Turkish shows. “They focus on violence and morals; almost teaching us what is right and wrong in life—they are too patronizing and dull.”
Instead, she said that Turkish programs run deep, centering on emotional dilemmas and conflicts of the heart. These are amplified with storylines that show Western norms clashing with the traditional backgrounds of the Muslim characters, she added.
“I was shocked that these things were being broadcast on Arabic television when I first started watching ‘Noor’ three years ago,” she said.
Noor, (originally titled Gumus in Turkish) was the first Turkish soap opera dubbed in Arabic. It told a rags-to-riches story of a woman who married into a wealthy family but was rejected by her husband, who had another love interest. Noor attracted more than 85 million Arab viewers above the age of 15—nearly 50 million of them were women, according to a report on Turkish soap operas by the Turkish newspaper Hurriyet. Those 50 million are the equivalent to more than half of the adult Arab female viewers of any Arab TV drama in recent years.
The popularity of the Turkish shows among Arab viewers isn’t surprising, said Sengul Ozerkan, a professor of television and a cultural commentator in Istanbul. “Turkey always acts like an intermediary between the West and the Middle East,” she said in a Euromonitor report this week.The Saudi cleric Sheikh Saleh al-Luhaidan, however, denounced Noor. He said the program represented a “war” on Muslim virtues since it portrayed Muslim characters living in a largely secular Turkey.
Enas Mohammed, a scriptwriter based in London and a frequent viewer of Turkish dramas, said that although current Arabic soaps are relatively bland and repetitive in comparison to Turkey’s productions, the Arabs would catch up.
“We are beginning to see more daring story lines in Egyptian films, including those made for television. Some of them are focusing on fiery subjects with emotive angles,” Ms. Mohammed said.
She mentioned the film Al-Shawq, an Egyptian film that follows the trials of a woman who turned to begging on the streets of Egypt to be able to provide for her two daughters and an ill husband. It won the Golden Pyramid at the 34th Cairo International Film Festival in December 2010.
But it’s Turkey that still churns out the most melodramatic of the dramas, with programs such as Ask-i Memnu, Izel, Yaprak Dokumu, Kurtlar Vadisi, Asmali Konak and Ihlamurlar Altinda. These are currently showing on Arab television channels.
Last year, a total of 22 countries imported Turkish television series. The Hurriyet study found that since Turkey started to export its shows in 2006, sales have exceeded $3 million annually with the Arab world, Greece and Brazil being the top markets.
(Eman El Shenawi of Al Arabiya can be reached at: eman.elshenawi@mbc.net)
Good for you, America: You don't care about Paris Hilton anymore
To contact us Click HERE
by Darren Franich
Image Credit: Ken Babolocsay/Globe Photos/ZUMAPRESS.comThere was a time when it seemed like Paris Hilton was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She may not have invented the notion of “famous for being famous,” but she perfected it, running roughshod over the first decade of this brave new millennium. She was inescapable. She had a reality show, or two. She had a music career, and I use both terms loosely. She was on the cover of classy magazines and tabloid magazines, thus shattering the difference between the two, until the very definition of “quality” began to seem fuzzy. She was at the center of the Lohan-Spears-Hilton party girl continuum which threatened the very fabric of our nation, apparently. But time rolls ever on. Seasons pass. Things change. And, despite ourselves, we learn from our past mistakes. Thus, The World According to Paris — Hilton’s new reality show about the perils of being Paris Hilton — debuted to blessedly low ratings on Wednesday. Congratulations, America! It only took eight years, untold millions of dollars, a relentless onslaught of media gasbaggery (that’s us!), and the entire career of Nicole Richie, but you have successfully weaned yourself off of your Paris addiction. (Don’t worry about Ms. Hilton: Something tells me she’ll be just fine.)
Image Credit: Ken Babolocsay/Globe Photos/ZUMAPRESS.comThere was a time when it seemed like Paris Hilton was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She may not have invented the notion of “famous for being famous,” but she perfected it, running roughshod over the first decade of this brave new millennium. She was inescapable. She had a reality show, or two. She had a music career, and I use both terms loosely. She was on the cover of classy magazines and tabloid magazines, thus shattering the difference between the two, until the very definition of “quality” began to seem fuzzy. She was at the center of the Lohan-Spears-Hilton party girl continuum which threatened the very fabric of our nation, apparently. But time rolls ever on. Seasons pass. Things change. And, despite ourselves, we learn from our past mistakes. Thus, The World According to Paris — Hilton’s new reality show about the perils of being Paris Hilton — debuted to blessedly low ratings on Wednesday. Congratulations, America! It only took eight years, untold millions of dollars, a relentless onslaught of media gasbaggery (that’s us!), and the entire career of Nicole Richie, but you have successfully weaned yourself off of your Paris addiction. (Don’t worry about Ms. Hilton: Something tells me she’ll be just fine.)Rebecca Black's 'Friday' controversy: Video production company says it was 'blindsided' by YouTube removal
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by Tanner StranskyEWRebecca Black’s infamous music video for “Friday” remains pulled from YouTube due to a copyright claim by Black, as the saga surrounding the viral video continues to play out. ARK Music Factory, the company that helped Black create it, has fired back in a statement, claiming that they’re working to resolve a complaint from Black’s representatives.
The statement from ARK’s spokesperson is as follows: “We’re disappointed, having been in good faith negotiations with Rebecca Black and her representatives for months regarding any open issues. There’s been an ongoing, open dialogue with our company. So we were blindsided to get a Take Down Notice — with no notice — alleging copyright infringement instead of a call or email from Rebecca’s representatives.” The company also claims they have rights to the video. “Our use of the video has fully been authorized (as evidenced by four uninterrupted months and 160 million-plus viewings without objection) by both Ms. Black and the copyright holder,” the statement continued. “Regardless, we are going to continue to take the high road and work out the complaint as soon as possible so that the million-plus people who watch Friday for free each day can continue to enjoy the video.”
Finally, ARK ended their statement saying the company was “pleased to have been associated with Rebecca Black, and wish her continued success as she pursues her career,” and noting that company founder Patrice Wilson “discovered, defined, and delivered” the 13-year-old “sensation.”
Reps for Black have not responded to EW for comment, and Black herself has not yet written anything about the current controversy on her Twitter feed or her just-launched Facebook page.
The statement from ARK’s spokesperson is as follows: “We’re disappointed, having been in good faith negotiations with Rebecca Black and her representatives for months regarding any open issues. There’s been an ongoing, open dialogue with our company. So we were blindsided to get a Take Down Notice — with no notice — alleging copyright infringement instead of a call or email from Rebecca’s representatives.” The company also claims they have rights to the video. “Our use of the video has fully been authorized (as evidenced by four uninterrupted months and 160 million-plus viewings without objection) by both Ms. Black and the copyright holder,” the statement continued. “Regardless, we are going to continue to take the high road and work out the complaint as soon as possible so that the million-plus people who watch Friday for free each day can continue to enjoy the video.”
Finally, ARK ended their statement saying the company was “pleased to have been associated with Rebecca Black, and wish her continued success as she pursues her career,” and noting that company founder Patrice Wilson “discovered, defined, and delivered” the 13-year-old “sensation.”
Reps for Black have not responded to EW for comment, and Black herself has not yet written anything about the current controversy on her Twitter feed or her just-launched Facebook page.
5 Temmuz 2012 Perşembe
Minogue and Smith deny split rumours
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By ninemsn staffDannii Minogue and Kris Smith. (AAP)
Pop princess Dannii Minogue and model partner Kris Smith have denied their three-year relationship is on the rocks, in a joint statement issued today.
Just ten months after the birth of their son, Ethan, the couple has been forced to defend their relationship amid reports they had taken a break from each other.
"Thanks for your concern," Minogue and Smith said today in a statement. "We're happy to be back at home in Melbourne together as a family. We are committed to our relationship and Ethan as always."
Their relationship has come under media scrutiny recently, with sources close to the couple telling the Daily Telegraph their union was crumbling under the strain of work pressures and parenthood.
Minogue added fuel to the rumours by posting a series of introspective messages on Twitter at the weekend.
“Never chase love. If it isn’t given freely by another person, it’s not worth having,” she tweeted, according to a News of the World report yesterday.
“Forgiving someone doesn’t mean forgetting what they did. It simply means letting go of the hurt.”
The posts were reportedly removed soon afterwards.
Minogue flew back into Australia last Sunday to continue judging on Australia’s Got Talent.
The 39-year-old regularly travels between Australia and the UK, while 32-year-old Smith is busy with his commitments as a menswear ambassador for Myer
By ninemsn staffDannii Minogue and Kris Smith. (AAP)Pop princess Dannii Minogue and model partner Kris Smith have denied their three-year relationship is on the rocks, in a joint statement issued today.
Just ten months after the birth of their son, Ethan, the couple has been forced to defend their relationship amid reports they had taken a break from each other.
"Thanks for your concern," Minogue and Smith said today in a statement. "We're happy to be back at home in Melbourne together as a family. We are committed to our relationship and Ethan as always."
Their relationship has come under media scrutiny recently, with sources close to the couple telling the Daily Telegraph their union was crumbling under the strain of work pressures and parenthood.
Minogue added fuel to the rumours by posting a series of introspective messages on Twitter at the weekend.
“Never chase love. If it isn’t given freely by another person, it’s not worth having,” she tweeted, according to a News of the World report yesterday.
“Forgiving someone doesn’t mean forgetting what they did. It simply means letting go of the hurt.”
The posts were reportedly removed soon afterwards.
Minogue flew back into Australia last Sunday to continue judging on Australia’s Got Talent.
The 39-year-old regularly travels between Australia and the UK, while 32-year-old Smith is busy with his commitments as a menswear ambassador for Myer
Good for you, America: You don't care about Paris Hilton anymore
To contact us Click HERE
by Darren FranichImage Credit: Ken Babolocsay/Globe Photos/ZUMAPRESS.comThere was a time when it seemed like Paris Hilton was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She may not have invented the notion of “famous for being famous,” but she perfected it, running roughshod over the first decade of this brave new millennium. She was inescapable. She had a reality show, or two. She had a music career, and I use both terms loosely. She was on the cover of classy magazines and tabloid magazines, thus shattering the difference between the two, until the very definition of “quality” began to seem fuzzy. She was at the center of the Lohan-Spears-Hilton party girl continuum which threatened the very fabric of our nation, apparently. But time rolls ever on. Seasons pass. Things change. And, despite ourselves, we learn from our past mistakes. Thus, The World According to Paris — Hilton’s new reality show about the perils of being Paris Hilton — debuted to blessedly low ratings on Wednesday. Congratulations, America! It only took eight years, untold millions of dollars, a relentless onslaught of media gasbaggery (that’s us!), and the entire career of Nicole Richie, but you have successfully weaned yourself off of your Paris addiction. (Don’t worry about Ms. Hilton: Something tells me she’ll be just fine.)
Image Credit: Ken Babolocsay/Globe Photos/ZUMAPRESS.comThere was a time when it seemed like Paris Hilton was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She may not have invented the notion of “famous for being famous,” but she perfected it, running roughshod over the first decade of this brave new millennium. She was inescapable. She had a reality show, or two. She had a music career, and I use both terms loosely. She was on the cover of classy magazines and tabloid magazines, thus shattering the difference between the two, until the very definition of “quality” began to seem fuzzy. She was at the center of the Lohan-Spears-Hilton party girl continuum which threatened the very fabric of our nation, apparently. But time rolls ever on. Seasons pass. Things change. And, despite ourselves, we learn from our past mistakes. Thus, The World According to Paris — Hilton’s new reality show about the perils of being Paris Hilton — debuted to blessedly low ratings on Wednesday. Congratulations, America! It only took eight years, untold millions of dollars, a relentless onslaught of media gasbaggery (that’s us!), and the entire career of Nicole Richie, but you have successfully weaned yourself off of your Paris addiction. (Don’t worry about Ms. Hilton: Something tells me she’ll be just fine.)Musicians in Madrid fundraising concert for Libyan refugees
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By MUNA KHAN Al Arabiya with AgenciesTen thousand fans gathered at Palacio Vistalegre stadium in Madrid to listen to musicians like James Blunt, Enrique Iglesias and Kate Ryan and support UN efforts to aid Libyan refugees.
The event, the seventh Primavera Pop Festival, was organized by 40 radio stations in a bid to raise awareness of refugees amongst the youth.
“We are very grateful to 40 Principales for this solidarity initiative to support UNHCR in its 60th year,” Maricela Daniel, UNHCR's representative in Spain, said at the concert.
“It is a great opportunity for us to bring the refugee cause closer to a motivated young public,” she said.
The concert was expected to raise 50,000 Euros which the United Nations High Commission for Refugees hopes to use for the protection of those displaced by the ongoing conflict in Libya.
The UN estimates that one million people have fled the conflict since it began in February in Libya and have moved to Tunisia, Egypt, Chad, Niger and Algeria.
Apart from the main attractions, other performers included Alexandra Stan, Carlos Jean y Nana, Dani MartÃn, Despistaos, El Pescao, La Musicalité, Macaco, Maldita Nerea, Melendi, Malú, Mohombi, Robert RamÃrez, Soraya, Taio Cruz, and The Monomes.
According to UNHCR, Goodwill Ambassador Jesús Vázquez, “who is a popular TV presenter in Spain, sent a video message to the fans and several of the performers spoke about refugees.”
Many of the performers also joined the UNHCR campaign, “Put yourself in a Refugee’s Shoes,” by recording video messages to show their support, wearing campaign T-shirts.
The campaign will be launched in Spain on World Refugee Day on June 20.
(Muna Khan, Editor of Al Arabiya English, can be reached at: muna.khan@mbc.net)
By MUNA KHAN Al Arabiya with AgenciesTen thousand fans gathered at Palacio Vistalegre stadium in Madrid to listen to musicians like James Blunt, Enrique Iglesias and Kate Ryan and support UN efforts to aid Libyan refugees.The event, the seventh Primavera Pop Festival, was organized by 40 radio stations in a bid to raise awareness of refugees amongst the youth.
“We are very grateful to 40 Principales for this solidarity initiative to support UNHCR in its 60th year,” Maricela Daniel, UNHCR's representative in Spain, said at the concert.
“It is a great opportunity for us to bring the refugee cause closer to a motivated young public,” she said.
The concert was expected to raise 50,000 Euros which the United Nations High Commission for Refugees hopes to use for the protection of those displaced by the ongoing conflict in Libya.
The UN estimates that one million people have fled the conflict since it began in February in Libya and have moved to Tunisia, Egypt, Chad, Niger and Algeria.
Apart from the main attractions, other performers included Alexandra Stan, Carlos Jean y Nana, Dani MartÃn, Despistaos, El Pescao, La Musicalité, Macaco, Maldita Nerea, Melendi, Malú, Mohombi, Robert RamÃrez, Soraya, Taio Cruz, and The Monomes.
According to UNHCR, Goodwill Ambassador Jesús Vázquez, “who is a popular TV presenter in Spain, sent a video message to the fans and several of the performers spoke about refugees.”
Many of the performers also joined the UNHCR campaign, “Put yourself in a Refugee’s Shoes,” by recording video messages to show their support, wearing campaign T-shirts.
The campaign will be launched in Spain on World Refugee Day on June 20.
(Muna Khan, Editor of Al Arabiya English, can be reached at: muna.khan@mbc.net)
Rebecca Black's 'Friday' controversy: Video production company says it was 'blindsided' by YouTube removal
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by Tanner StranskyEWRebecca Black’s infamous music video for “Friday” remains pulled from YouTube due to a copyright claim by Black, as the saga surrounding the viral video continues to play out. ARK Music Factory, the company that helped Black create it, has fired back in a statement, claiming that they’re working to resolve a complaint from Black’s representatives.
The statement from ARK’s spokesperson is as follows: “We’re disappointed, having been in good faith negotiations with Rebecca Black and her representatives for months regarding any open issues. There’s been an ongoing, open dialogue with our company. So we were blindsided to get a Take Down Notice — with no notice — alleging copyright infringement instead of a call or email from Rebecca’s representatives.” The company also claims they have rights to the video. “Our use of the video has fully been authorized (as evidenced by four uninterrupted months and 160 million-plus viewings without objection) by both Ms. Black and the copyright holder,” the statement continued. “Regardless, we are going to continue to take the high road and work out the complaint as soon as possible so that the million-plus people who watch Friday for free each day can continue to enjoy the video.”
Finally, ARK ended their statement saying the company was “pleased to have been associated with Rebecca Black, and wish her continued success as she pursues her career,” and noting that company founder Patrice Wilson “discovered, defined, and delivered” the 13-year-old “sensation.”
Reps for Black have not responded to EW for comment, and Black herself has not yet written anything about the current controversy on her Twitter feed or her just-launched Facebook page.
The statement from ARK’s spokesperson is as follows: “We’re disappointed, having been in good faith negotiations with Rebecca Black and her representatives for months regarding any open issues. There’s been an ongoing, open dialogue with our company. So we were blindsided to get a Take Down Notice — with no notice — alleging copyright infringement instead of a call or email from Rebecca’s representatives.” The company also claims they have rights to the video. “Our use of the video has fully been authorized (as evidenced by four uninterrupted months and 160 million-plus viewings without objection) by both Ms. Black and the copyright holder,” the statement continued. “Regardless, we are going to continue to take the high road and work out the complaint as soon as possible so that the million-plus people who watch Friday for free each day can continue to enjoy the video.”
Finally, ARK ended their statement saying the company was “pleased to have been associated with Rebecca Black, and wish her continued success as she pursues her career,” and noting that company founder Patrice Wilson “discovered, defined, and delivered” the 13-year-old “sensation.”
Reps for Black have not responded to EW for comment, and Black herself has not yet written anything about the current controversy on her Twitter feed or her just-launched Facebook page.
Laughing with, and not at, Muslims
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By KIRK HONEYCUTT Hollywood Reporter Reuters Los AngelesSo a Jew, a Christian and a Muslim walk into a bar. The bartender turns around and says, “What is this ... a joke?”
Yes, it is a joke but some people would wonder what a Muslim is doing in a bar and how he could possibly be involved in a joke. Because as far as many Americans are concerned, the words “Muslim” and “humor” don’t belong in the same sentence.
Which is where Ahmed Ahmed's “Just Like Us,” which opened Friday in limited release, comes in. Ahmed is a stand-up comic in the United States and, yes, he is an Egyptian-born Muslim. On a recent swing through the Middle East with a clutch of fellow comics, some of whom are also Arabs, he took along a camera crew to document to fact that Muslims can tell damn good jokes about themselves and that other Muslims will laugh uproariously.
The movie is fast, funny and light on its feet, dipping less into politics or religion than into cultural quirks and characteristics. For instance: An Arab invented the original mechanical clock, which is odd since Arabs are never on time. Bu-dah-bum. You get the idea.
One might complain that Ahmed and his Comedy Arabic Tour hit the most liberal ports-of-call in the Middle East -- Dubai, that international center of business and trade in the United Arabs Emirates; Beirut, Lebanon, the “Paris of the East”; and Egypt, the “Hollywood of the Arab world.”
Ah, but the comics also gave an underground concert in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, where no public entertainment is allowed, religious police are everywhere and they can't even enter the country as entertainers but as “consultants.” How in the world did they get away with it? That may have been another documentary in itself!
Ahmed, one of the stars of Vince Vaughn’s Wild West Comedy Show and The Axis of Evil Comedy Tour, isn't interested in the larger picture. He settles for brief forays into each city and a hit-and-run encounter with his relatives in Egypt. Expect no broader context but simply an assertion that once you get everyone laughing, an Arab is “just like us.” As an examination of complex cultural ties and conflicts, that’s pretty glib but in this instance glib is also funny.
Ahmed takes along a group of comedians that include Omid Dajalili (star of The Infidel), “In Living Color” alum Tommy Davidson, “The Wedding Ref” host Tom Papa and Ahmed's Wild West Comedy Show co-star Sebastian Maniscalco. And while he did direct, Ahmed is generous in showing his fellow comics during their times on stage.
Some of the laughs here come in watching -- and hearing -- the North American comics test jokes on an entirely different audience without being fully aware of the censorship laws. Ahmed admits he was banned for a year in Dubai for saying something that rubbed the authorities the wrong way. A woman comic uses the word “balls,” then abruptly wonders if now she'll be banned. The audience seemed to laugh at this but that may be how Ahmed edited the film. Who knows what they’re laughing at?
For that matter, editing is so fast and the pace of the tour so swift that you wonder what did get left out. How did that underground concert in Riyadh happen? Why is there a brief altercation backstage at one event? How did authorities react to the gags? And doesn’t the fact that most of the routines are in English exclude most of the Arab populations in these countries?
Mostly, Ahmed wants to show men, women and children of the Middle East smiling and cracking up in laughter to counter the image of the serious, sullen or even furious Arab who inhabits the American consciousness. He and his comics tell jokes well enough that he gets ample opportunities for this.
Yes, it is a joke but some people would wonder what a Muslim is doing in a bar and how he could possibly be involved in a joke. Because as far as many Americans are concerned, the words “Muslim” and “humor” don’t belong in the same sentence.
Which is where Ahmed Ahmed's “Just Like Us,” which opened Friday in limited release, comes in. Ahmed is a stand-up comic in the United States and, yes, he is an Egyptian-born Muslim. On a recent swing through the Middle East with a clutch of fellow comics, some of whom are also Arabs, he took along a camera crew to document to fact that Muslims can tell damn good jokes about themselves and that other Muslims will laugh uproariously.
The movie is fast, funny and light on its feet, dipping less into politics or religion than into cultural quirks and characteristics. For instance: An Arab invented the original mechanical clock, which is odd since Arabs are never on time. Bu-dah-bum. You get the idea.
One might complain that Ahmed and his Comedy Arabic Tour hit the most liberal ports-of-call in the Middle East -- Dubai, that international center of business and trade in the United Arabs Emirates; Beirut, Lebanon, the “Paris of the East”; and Egypt, the “Hollywood of the Arab world.”
Ah, but the comics also gave an underground concert in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, where no public entertainment is allowed, religious police are everywhere and they can't even enter the country as entertainers but as “consultants.” How in the world did they get away with it? That may have been another documentary in itself!
Ahmed, one of the stars of Vince Vaughn’s Wild West Comedy Show and The Axis of Evil Comedy Tour, isn't interested in the larger picture. He settles for brief forays into each city and a hit-and-run encounter with his relatives in Egypt. Expect no broader context but simply an assertion that once you get everyone laughing, an Arab is “just like us.” As an examination of complex cultural ties and conflicts, that’s pretty glib but in this instance glib is also funny.
Ahmed takes along a group of comedians that include Omid Dajalili (star of The Infidel), “In Living Color” alum Tommy Davidson, “The Wedding Ref” host Tom Papa and Ahmed's Wild West Comedy Show co-star Sebastian Maniscalco. And while he did direct, Ahmed is generous in showing his fellow comics during their times on stage.
Some of the laughs here come in watching -- and hearing -- the North American comics test jokes on an entirely different audience without being fully aware of the censorship laws. Ahmed admits he was banned for a year in Dubai for saying something that rubbed the authorities the wrong way. A woman comic uses the word “balls,” then abruptly wonders if now she'll be banned. The audience seemed to laugh at this but that may be how Ahmed edited the film. Who knows what they’re laughing at?
For that matter, editing is so fast and the pace of the tour so swift that you wonder what did get left out. How did that underground concert in Riyadh happen? Why is there a brief altercation backstage at one event? How did authorities react to the gags? And doesn’t the fact that most of the routines are in English exclude most of the Arab populations in these countries?
Mostly, Ahmed wants to show men, women and children of the Middle East smiling and cracking up in laughter to counter the image of the serious, sullen or even furious Arab who inhabits the American consciousness. He and his comics tell jokes well enough that he gets ample opportunities for this.
4 Temmuz 2012 Çarşamba
The Coughing Debate
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A woman was dying of consumption. We shouldn't have been looking, but it was gripping nonetheless. 'Cessarono. Gli spasmi del dolore. In me rinasce m'agita Insolito vigore! Ah! io ritorno a vivere.' And with those words Violetta breathed her last. Despite the hideous illness with which La traviata ends, last night's performance at the Royal Opera House was dominated by the sound of the audience's coughing. Like an empathetic bus-load of consumptives, the auditorium rang with the sound of hacking. And, more or less, it only occurred during the quiet bits (of which there are a lot in Act 3).
Although La traviata provides the most ironic instance of bronchial barking intruding on the music, it isn't the worst. The slow and steady Arabian Dance in The Nutcracker often prompts such spasms and I remember an awful instance during the final bars of an LSO Mahler 9. My friend, sitting next to me in the Barbican, railed loudly against the offending cougher during the applause. So, why do people cough during classical music?
The short answer is nerves or, more bluntly, a lack of concentration. They feel on edge. The silence and focus required by these performances has a bizarrely reverse effect. Attention is brought back on to uncertain members of the audience and they feel the need to act out. Bronchial emissions are the mid-performance equivalent of the entrance and curtain call applause. We somehow feel bereft when silenced by the very thing that has, supposedly, brought us in the first place.
Genuinely 'ill' responses, the winter cold or (heaven forbid) consumption, are incredibly few and far between. What dominates is the arid open-mouthed cough, without a hand or scarf or jumper placed in front of the mouth. It echoes (as one BBC National Orchestra of Wales concert programme used to tell us) at the same volume as a mezzo forte note on the horn. It's like adding a whole new level of orchestration to the work or, as in last night's performance, placing Violetta in a ward of hundreds of consumptives.
It's noticeable that where concentration is largely much better - at Wigmore Hall for instance - coughing is minimal. Although the inter-movement cough, alas also prevalent at Wigmore, is a particularly odd phenomenon, these sounds chime with the New Zealand-born musicologist Christopher Small's theories about audience behaviour. Like clapping, it allows us to fill the auditory space. Having been wowed (or bored) by what's been performed, we feel the need to make our own noise. Concert halls (and opera houses) seem to claim one-way conversation; audiences insist on two-way dialogue. Candidly, people just don't know where to stop. Clearly, nothing is sacred anymore.
But then concert halls and opera houses were built as social spaces and audiences rightly react to their environments in a fashion similar to the way they would in a restaurant or bar. They've paid for the privilege and want to react accordingly. But the coughing thing presents a particular challenge. For one, it's incredibly annoying and invades the space of other members of the audience. But not only do we have to try and hear 'above' it, we also need to address why people actually feel on edge or lack the concentration required by a 35-minute stretch of music. So, it's not why do people cough, but why do they go at all? As ever, it's about music education.
Ermonela Jaho as Violetta and Stephen Costello as Alfredo
In The Royal Opera's production of La traviata
Photograph © ROH/Catherine Ashmore
A woman was dying of consumption. We shouldn't have been looking, but it was gripping nonetheless. 'Cessarono. Gli spasmi del dolore. In me rinasce m'agita Insolito vigore! Ah! io ritorno a vivere.' And with those words Violetta breathed her last. Despite the hideous illness with which La traviata ends, last night's performance at the Royal Opera House was dominated by the sound of the audience's coughing. Like an empathetic bus-load of consumptives, the auditorium rang with the sound of hacking. And, more or less, it only occurred during the quiet bits (of which there are a lot in Act 3).Although La traviata provides the most ironic instance of bronchial barking intruding on the music, it isn't the worst. The slow and steady Arabian Dance in The Nutcracker often prompts such spasms and I remember an awful instance during the final bars of an LSO Mahler 9. My friend, sitting next to me in the Barbican, railed loudly against the offending cougher during the applause. So, why do people cough during classical music?
The short answer is nerves or, more bluntly, a lack of concentration. They feel on edge. The silence and focus required by these performances has a bizarrely reverse effect. Attention is brought back on to uncertain members of the audience and they feel the need to act out. Bronchial emissions are the mid-performance equivalent of the entrance and curtain call applause. We somehow feel bereft when silenced by the very thing that has, supposedly, brought us in the first place.
Genuinely 'ill' responses, the winter cold or (heaven forbid) consumption, are incredibly few and far between. What dominates is the arid open-mouthed cough, without a hand or scarf or jumper placed in front of the mouth. It echoes (as one BBC National Orchestra of Wales concert programme used to tell us) at the same volume as a mezzo forte note on the horn. It's like adding a whole new level of orchestration to the work or, as in last night's performance, placing Violetta in a ward of hundreds of consumptives.
It's noticeable that where concentration is largely much better - at Wigmore Hall for instance - coughing is minimal. Although the inter-movement cough, alas also prevalent at Wigmore, is a particularly odd phenomenon, these sounds chime with the New Zealand-born musicologist Christopher Small's theories about audience behaviour. Like clapping, it allows us to fill the auditory space. Having been wowed (or bored) by what's been performed, we feel the need to make our own noise. Concert halls (and opera houses) seem to claim one-way conversation; audiences insist on two-way dialogue. Candidly, people just don't know where to stop. Clearly, nothing is sacred anymore.
But then concert halls and opera houses were built as social spaces and audiences rightly react to their environments in a fashion similar to the way they would in a restaurant or bar. They've paid for the privilege and want to react accordingly. But the coughing thing presents a particular challenge. For one, it's incredibly annoying and invades the space of other members of the audience. But not only do we have to try and hear 'above' it, we also need to address why people actually feel on edge or lack the concentration required by a 35-minute stretch of music. So, it's not why do people cough, but why do they go at all? As ever, it's about music education.
Ermonela Jaho as Violetta and Stephen Costello as Alfredo
In The Royal Opera's production of La traviata
Photograph © ROH/Catherine Ashmore
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