Word: belmonts
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Winchester Wilds and Belmont Manor have a certain something in common, or so is spread the rumor, but W. W. (for brevity) has a little more of it. Success, so say the W. boys (Woodin, Willcox, Walker, Wood, Brocker--a ringer--and Wolf), if only in the mind, so take heart, mssrs. Schroeder, Shellenbarger, Marchese, Bourgeois, and Ballentine...
When he was six, Ira Jean Belmont heard Schubert's Serenade and startled his mother by exclaiming, "It was beautiful, especially when I saw those green and blue and purple and all kinds of clouds passing by." His mother's surprise passed, but her son's sensitivity persisted. Whenever Belmont heard the clanging of church bells, the twittering of birds, the echoes of his own voice-multiple colors flashed before his eyes. In his 20s he took up portrait painting, but he kept mixing up sounds and colors. Finally, he submitted to the inevitable. Last week twelve...
...Belmont, a greyish, thin-lipped man in his 60s, calls his painting Color-Music Expressionism. "Inherent synesthetic perceptions" (granted, he explains, to only 5% of humanity) account for his seeing colors when he hears musical sounds. He has supplemented his natural gift with a complex mathematical scheme, based on the comparative vibrations of sounds and light rays.* A ray of red, for example, has about 477,000,000,000 vibrations per second. Its tonal equivalent, to Belmont, is the key of C. Similarly, the key of D is orange; E, yellow; F, yellow-green, etc. Thus, a dirge is painted...
Included in Belmont's current show are canvases inspired by selections from Sibelius, Tchaikovsky and Wagner. To the unattuned 95%, one canvas is practically interchangeable with any other. Such gallerygoers wondered last week about paying only $3.50 for a record album of unmistakable music when Belmont's re-recordings are priced...
...detail of the letter over, her lawyer asked her permission to telephone a New York Daily News photographer. Miss Belmont, who was wearing a white sweater that day, assented. When the photographer arrived, Miss Belmont placed her hands behind her head, elbows out, swayed back happily, and smiled for a new photograph. But she still held to the complaint her lawyer had made in his letter to Harvest House. Its legal basis: her privacy had been invaded...