PAGE 4 - N.C. ESSAY
Reviews
Record Review ^lan zingaie
BERLIOZ: Les Troyens (The
Trojans). Opera in five acts and
nine tableaux. Libretto: Hector
Berlioz after Virgil. Vickers,
Veasey, Lindholm, Davis,
Chorus and Orchestra of the
Royal Opera House, Covent
Garden. ^Phillips 670^2. (First
Complete Recording).
For the past century, Berlioz’s
“The Trojans” has existed
primarily as legend. Until
recently, it was fashionable to
view this work as a sprawling
white elephant, fatally uneven,
unplayable, and unstageable. But
the modem Berlioz revival in
Britain has proved these
assertions to be false.
When Raphael Kubelik con
ducted a Covent Garden version
in 1957, it seemed evident that
“The Trojans” was “one of the
most gigantic and convincing
masterpieces of music-drama,”
to quote Sir Donald Tovey. As the
musical public’s attitude toward
Berlioz gradually changed, the
publishing firm of Barenreiter
restored in 1969, the first full
original acore of “The Trojans”
(a timely task for the centenary
of Berlioz’s death). Also, the year
1969 saw the first performance
ever of the opera as fte composer
intended - complete and in the
original language. The conductor
was Colin Davis at Covent
Garden, again.
Davis, with most of the original
cast, began this recording a few
days after the final per
formances. Featuring Jon
Vickers, Josephine Veasey, and
Berit Lindholm in the main roles,
it is the first and only complete
recording available of “The
Trojans” (five discs). It should
prove to be one of the most im
portant of our time.
The libretto of “The Trojans”
is from Books I, II, and IV of
Virgil’s epic poem the “Aeneid,”
with ideas or events drawn from
other parts of the poem when
necessarj'. Much of the Latin text
was directly translated or
paraphrased into French by
Berlioz Iiimself, which allowed
him the freedom to select
carefuU}. material that would
best ser/e his dramatic purposes.
The opera’s central idea con
cerns the destiny and fate of the
Trojan nation. The personal
tragedies of Cassandra (Acts I &
II) and Dido (Acts III, IV, & V)
develop and demonstrate this
theme. Gradually, Aeneas
emerges as the doomed hero and
at the opera’s close his legions
are upon Italy, where they will
found a new Troy.
Reviewing can ^come difficult
and dangerous when a full score
cannot be provided and when
there are no other complete
recordings available for com
parison. Nevertheless, Colin
Davis is considered among the
finest of today’s conductors, and
has been respected as an eminent
Berlioz specialist. He has
recorded a complete cycle of
Berlioz works, all of which have
received rave reviews, praising
their definitiveness. There is no
reason to suspect that he would or
could fall short now, in what is
perhaps Berlioz’s greatest and
loftiest creation.
Moreover, the cast of this
recording has had the
inestimable experience of
staging the work under live
performing conditions, which
naturally assures a more con
vincing and unified opera in the
recording studio. In evaluating
the vastly impressive per
formance given here by these
dedicated Britons, there should
be no doubt that this recording
will hold its own for years to
come.
Jon Vickers (tenor) is
heroically powerful in the role of
Aeneas; Berit Lindholm
(soprano) portrays Cassandra
with fitting intensity; and
Josephine Veasey (mezzo) ef
fectively explores the noble
pathos of Dido. The supporting
cast is equally convincing,
showing as much involvement as
the principals. Davis has the
orchestra and choruses in top
form, with the choruses showing
an unusual degree of accuracy
and precision. (The WandsworOi
School Boys’ Choir joins the
Royal Opera House Chorus in
certain sections).
Occasionally however, there
are some slight brass cracks in
the orchestra and there are a few
places that cause one to question
the precision of the percussion.
But for the most part, the playing
is of top caliber, especially
outstanding for phrasing, in
tonation, and clarity.
Philips’ engineers have done a
brilliant job with balance and
depth. The off-stage brass bands
are appropriately distant; the
opera’s many ghosts really sound
like ghosts; and the actual stage
positions have been preserved for
the correct acoustical effect.
Fortunately, the final com
bination remains spacious
without losing power, the sound
never being cramped.
In sum, all of these sincere
efforts have produced what
appears to be, in every sense of
the word, a masterpiece. To say
that “The Trojans” is one of the
most interesting or unusual of
musical resurrections is to un
derstate the case. The product of
a lifetime, it is emerging as an
opera of visionary beauty and
splendor, fascinating in its in
vention, and compelling in its
epic sweep.
Editorial
Artsan Jungle
by Cortlandt Jones
The Reynolda Gardens has
moved and will be renamed the
Artisan Jungle. The location of
the new site is on the once barren
waste land of NCSA. With the
addition of a few shrubs, trees,
pines, and evergreens this
swamp like terrain has become
one of the most densely populated
arboretums that ever hit North
Carolina.
In ten years the campus of
NCSA will no longer be in view of
the average passer-by. The
bustling trees will nave grown,
the tiny leafed shrubs wiU have
spread (thorns and all), the
wimpering pines will reach and
tickle the feet of God as the
strong statuesque evergreens
protect our communal bird from
the great white monster.
The hovering crystal balls
illuminate the future. One can see
Sunflower
S; by George Yarbrough W
(George Yarbrough used to be a
teacher. He now works in a
brewery. He is a friend and a
connoisseur of rock and roll
music. He aspires to be a working
class hero).
The Beach Boys is-are
America’s most misunderstood
group. They’ve never been able
to shake that early image of
clean-cut surfers,glorifying the
high school scene, and because of
this the rock public has largely
ignored them. Capitol Records
has not helped much. Refusing to
release much of their ambitious
material (considered to be too
freaky), Capitol has consistently
tried to keep them in the main
stream of commercialized rock.
Sunflower, their first album on
the Warner Brothers- Reprise
label, is a milestone in their
career. Besides being their finest
album to date, it is also a
technical achievement in sound
reproduction. Responsible for all
this is Brian Wilson, a musical
genius (these days, who isn’t)
and leader of the Beach Boys.
With brothers Carl and Dennis,
cousin Mike Love, and friends A1
Jardine and Bruce Johnston,
Brian has produced twelve
superb cuts.
Their sound is essentially the
same as before, sort of a cross
between Chuck Berry and the
BRIAN WILSON, BEACH BOY GENIUS: HE GETS AROUND.
Four Freshmen, but the music
has gained subtleties which set it
apart from most of their previous
material. In fact, some of the
music is so subtle that it can float
past you without warning. All of it
is pleasant; the Beach Boys
refuse to sound heavy. Which is
why they’re so heavy.
Dennis Wilson shines on “Got
To Know The Woman,” a soul
riff, and “Forever,” a love song.
His “It’s About Time” is ex
cellent. Bruce Johnston is
featured on “Deidre” and “Tears
In The Morning,” two more
outstanding cuts. “At My Win
dow” comes close to cloying, but
the song saves itself by preceding
The J. GeOs Band
by Tony Angevine
the fragile college student of
tomorrow fighting his way to
class killing off attacking snakes,
big green poisonous atomic
lizards, just to attend a piano
lesson. “Did Tarzan start like
this”, a voice is heard swinging
through trees. “No, he wouldn’t
have lived through all this”, cries
a dance student as he jetes across
the muddy swamp to the pebbly
steps of safety.
Next stop, Shangri-La the
Utopia of NCSA. This is a place
where the sun beats down on the
perfectly placed trees and
arranged flowers, as the mur
muring brook trickles on.
The moral to this little fantasy
is: just like an unattractive fat
woman wearing too much gaudy
colorful makeup and too much
dangling jewelry, you can over do
it!
Are you ready for J. Geils?
A band of six hard rocking
roUers from Boston, the J. Geils
band is one of the tightest groups
to come forward in the recent
deluge of good rock ’n roll people.
They have been together for
something like (Eight years) -
What alternative to a life in the
factory but rock ’n roll? - and it
really shows in their music.
The band seems to have
emerged suddenly out of the
fifties, some of them sporting
greased hair and pompadors,
blasting out the rough rocking
music of that “era” with songs
like “HOMEWORK” and
“CRUISIN’ FOR A LOVE”,
tightened and smothed to a point
of absolute artistry. Their music
is no riff, though (this is not
another Sha Na Na or Ruben and
the Jets); it’s their lifestyle:
tough-talking songs like “HARD
DRIVIN’ MAN” (“I’m gonna
leave you baby... Just twenty-
seven more minutes before I say
bye bye- I’m a hard drivin’
man...”) with piano and bass
working together sounding like a
churning engine, and “FIRST I
LOOK AT THE PURSE” (“I
don’t care if you got yourself a
rash- All I want is your pretty
green cash-1 want me a suit- I
want me a car-1 want me to look
like a Hollywood star...”). Even
their slower songs, bluesy things
like John Lee Hooker’s “SER
VES YOU RIGHT TO SUFFER”
or their own “ON BORROWED
TIME” push the listener to
exhaustion through the energy of
their presentation. The music
combines the intensity of the
Seventies with the musical in
tegrity of the Fifties, the fierce
flair and style of the Seventies
with the relentless but un
pretentious beat of the Fifties.
Driving, squealing, it never lets
up, never wears thin.
The best way to dig J. Geils &
Co. is in a live performance.
Their stage act is really
something to behold. Not as
greasy and leather-jacketed as
you’d expect from their sound,
they come bopping on stage
smiling and feeling good. They
rip right into a frantic in
strumental, “SNO-CONE”,
perhaps, throwing out some
outstanding organ, harp and
drum solo6 and leads. It’s im
mediately obvious that their
vitality is sincere; they don’t
condescend to their audience,
they play for them, catching and
recycling the energy, capturing
the attention and admiration of
their wild, milling outdoor
audience :i.e. Jubliee).
Singer Peter Wolf commands
the stage from the moment he
touches it, his lithe, black-cald
body rampaging, jumping,
spinning, stnitting with a grace
and unselfconscious abandon not
witnessed in a long time. His
voice is that of a scowling, knife-
toting street fighter, la^ but
powerful, crooning, shrieking,
muttering. Beautiful. One of the
toughest most exciting vocalists
performers around.
J. Geils himself, heavy guitar
man, stands unassumingly
somewhere behind freaking Wolf.
His hair is long and greased back,
shades hide his eyes, but his good
natured smile flashes as he
tortures his axe into a sustained
screech. J. Geils can get any
sound you want out of that guitar,
from simple, straightforward
picking to the wildest fuzz-toned
wail, working easily off Danny
Klein’s hard-drivin’ bass. Then
there’s Magic Dick, quietly
lurking under a bushy Afro, just
waiting to jump out and tear your
ears off with his shrieking ban
shee harp. In the opening of
“CRUSIN’ FOR A LOVE”, that
crazy harp sounds like a glass-
shattering sax.
From where we were stationed,
we couldn’t see keyboard man
Seth Justman or drummer
Stephen Bladd - a shame,
because there was certainly
some kind of frenzy going on back
there. Justman jumping from
piano to organ and back, bringing
the organ up to an ear-splitting
pitch to match guitar and harp.
And drummer Bladd flailing
away with the naturally rhythmic
abandon of a tribal witch doctor.
The most exciting part of J.
Geils Band’s performance is
their contact with the audience,
their cheerful confidence, their
great enjoyment of what they are
doing. They grab their audience,
catch them up in the whirlwind
pace and joyful frenzy, then
finally ease off, eveprbody left
exhausted and satisfied. Maybe
that’s why they were called back
twice for encores.
“Cool, Cool Water,” which has to
be heard to be believed. There is
a good feeling about this album, a
joyous feeling which reflects the
attitudes and ideas of the Beach
Boys. In fact, “Add Some Music
To Your Day” is the theme of the
album, in which Brian sings of
music as medicine and con
cludes:
The world could come together
as one
If everybody under the sun
Would add some music to his
day
Warm, wise and beautiful are
the Beach Boys. We cannot doubt
them any longer.
Editorial
Continued From Page 2
must be preserved and if we are
to accomplish such a mighfy
task, we must not allow this
seperation, ttiis inability to be
rational, this striking out in
absolute despair. As we do, we
only get furttier from where we
want to go and we play the game
the Nixons have always wanted
us to play.
New ways of ‘fighting’ must be
invented, new methods of
pressuring, new styles of
harassment. If we want to save
ourselves, we cannot believe that
one form of madness will defeat
another. We are not helpless,
although we may appear to be
now. We have let ourselves reach
a point where we think we can
alter things only by employing
the same means we deplore. But
it doesn’t work that way, people;
it never has and it never will.
We are not, like the Nixons and
the Agnews, insensitive,
irrational, blind human beings.
We are not without compassion
and understanding. We are not,
like the John Mitchells and the
rest of those mechanical tools,
without poetry. We must use
things to their fullest, not disband
them because it seems they will
not work. If our vision is to be
realized, we must work all the
harder to make them effective.
We must seek a new direction, a
new approach, but we must not
give up and give in to the tactics
of despair. We need a re
inforcement of ourselves, a
revitalization, a reason to believe
that we have not blown ourselves
out. People, we have to believe in
ourselves again.
That is our task, our duty, it
seems to me. Because in the end,
we will win out over the stupidity,
the banality, the corruption, the
killing, the greed. But we have to
believe that we are right. If we
don’t, then we should despair.
And we haven’t lately; we’ve
even started to take our own
press clippings seriously. And we
cannot, because no man alive - no
Richard Nixon, no Sprio Agnew,
no James Daley - will be able to
deny us if we believe we are
right. Their days are numbered,
that’s a fact. We have to find
ourselves though, if we are to
matter. And until we do, we will
continue to act in frustration and
despair, losing our meaning and
value, and no better than those
whom we scorn.