Word: balding
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...awesome. I have no other words to describe it, an almost hour-long musical Walpurgisnacht, set to Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain. The most impressive moment of the evening occured just before the musical climax of the piece--the music just stopped, like the blade of a guillotine. The dancers paused for a moment, waiting for--the beat! Congas! Big band style, Gene Krupka back from the dead...
...captured control of CBS is Tisch, 63. The shrewd investor and conglomerateur is now far and away the company's largest shareholder, with 24.9% of its stock (Paley is next with 8.1%). The irony of Tisch's sudden rise to dominance was considerable, since the soft- spoken, bald executive first purchased CBS shares last year largely at Wyman's behest, in an effort to buttress the network's anti-takeover defenses...
...pastoral frolic of Polyanka (a small meadow), the gentle gibes of the Old City Quadrille and the patriotic harum- scarum of Partisans, signature pieces all. Even the newer works on the program -- the dazzling, how-do-they-do-that At the Skating Rink and the wackily erotic Night on Bald Mountain -- show the same disciplined panache familiar to Americans from earlier visits...
Until, that is, Night on Bald Mountain. In its 1961 tour, the Moiseyev brought P.S.: Surprise Encore!, an exaggerated effort to satirize American rock 'n' rollers. That work's time has passed, but the impulse that inspired it remains. In Bald Mountain, Mussorgsky's music is suddenly interrupted by a prolonged cadenza of what can only be called socialist jazz jungle drumming. Pairs of pig-snouted satyrs and lissome succubi writhe lustily as syncopated kettledrums accompany an orgy of things that go bump and grind in the night. The outburst is as unexpected as it is finally gratuitous. But after...
...family roots were in farming and logging; the rest is classic American tumbleweed. From Wallace Stegner's writing classes at Stanford, Kesey drifted to the San Francisco Bay Area, the playpen of countercultures. A bit young to be a founding beatnik and, ten years later, a little too bald to be a convincing hippie, he became "the Chief" to a tribe of hallucinating nomads. This stage of Kesey's life was described in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Tom Wolfe's rollicking screed about a cross-country tour that Kesey and his overstimulated Merry Pranksters took in a vintage...