Word: castanetting
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...Lowdown: Galicia is the non-Spanish Spain. It's typically not warm, not anywhere near the Mediterranean, and far from the foot-stomping, castanet-clanging, torero ole-ing that characterizes the nation's more well-known southern coast. As Barlow writes it, Galicia is a misty, mysterious place full of cagey old coots and rustic food fanatics. What better place, then, to embark on a semi-ridiculous, typically male journey. With good humor and shameless enthusiasm, he has written a delicious meat mash note...
...other night I called my high school music teacher for, of all things, castanet recommendations. He’s the one who encouraged me to switch to percussion in eighth grade when the flute got boring, and I was proud to tell him about HRO. “So you’re playing in the orchestra now?” he asked, knowing I had not been very serious about musical involvement in college. I told him yes, and that I was loving it, happy to note that we are the oldest continually performing symphony orchestra in the country...
After being weighed, the snakes are dumped in a great braided mass into chest-high octagonal white plywood stockades, called pits. There they can be safely ogled and photographed in all their slithering, tongue-flicking, fang- baring, rattling, coiling, head-rearing glory. The Western diamondback, Crotalus (castanet) atrox (fearful), is indeed a horrible-wonderful creature. Its head is broad and flat, and its close-set, silver gray eyes with black pupils seem fixed and furious. A dry, cool skin of interlocking gray-and-brown diamond pattern leads to a pyramid of hard keratin nubs, acquired at the tail after successive...
Gypsies! Hot blood and fast fingers. Fortune-tellers and fortune hunters. Families feuding over a stolen sacred ring. It sounds like Late Show melodrama, with Maria Montez or Jane Russell parading about in pancake makeup, spitting out insults and endearments to a castanet heartbeat. Not quite: the performers in Angelo My Love are real gypsies, using their own names and, more or less, playing themselves. Six years ago, Actor Robert Duvall saw one of them, an eight-year-old charmer named Angelo Evans, arguing with a woman on a Manhattan street corner. For Duvall it was love at first sight...
...most diverse collection of styles that a major rock guitarist has assembled in a while. The fuzzed-out vibrato of his riffs on "Let the Children Play" provides a sharp contrast with the intricate acoustic guitar performance that highlights "Verao Vermelho," a song that somehow seems incomplete without a castanet-clapping flamenco dancer and a few serenading gitanos strumming away in the background. "Revelations" unveils still another Carlos Santana, a Carlos who has lent an attentive ear to the mournful strains of the great blues guitarists like B.B. King and Muddy Waters. This eleven-song album thus delivers much more...