Word: chantings
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...their hands and leaped about. The clanking of the xylophones rose to fever pitch, then died away. Three griots (West African minstrels )-one in a leather cape adorned with bits of mirror, another carrying a musket, and the third strumming on a one-string gourd guitar-wailed out a chant in honor of the man who for two solid hours had been the center of all the attention. Finally. Sekou Toure. 37. President of the new Republic of Guinea, a trim figure in a European business suit, rose and raised...
...triumphal tour to Caracas a fortnight ago, Castro sent Venezuelans into wild spasms of cheers when he told them: "Everywhere I hear the chant 'Trujillo next! Trujillo next!'" At Caracas' Central University, Castro himself tossed the first coin into a hat to launch a drive for $300,000 to start an invasion. Only 155 miles away from Trujilloland, bearded members of Castro's 26th of July Movement are already gazing longingly at maps showing the Dominican Republic's Cordillera Central, a forest region much like Cuba's Sierra Maestra. As Dominican exiles plot...
Daniel unfolds in a series of carefully stylized joyous and pathetic sequences, superbly staged (in the chapel of the Intercession of Trinity Parish in Manhattan) to give the effect of scenes from an illuminated manuscript. The action is accompanied by music suggestive of everything from Gregorian chant to folk song, played on reproductions of such authentic medieval instruments as a psaltery, a rebec, a minstrel's harp...
Bang, Bang, Bang. Tammy Grimes-because of her disheveled appearance sometimes known as Grimy Tams-insists that "nightclub singing is the hardest thing in the world to do." She makes it sound like the easiest, as she concocts a wistful chant out of Oscar Levant's Blame It on my Youth, throbs through Limehouse Blues, races with a fine, light lilt through The Springtime Cometh, a take-off an old English madrigal ("Gaily skippeth, nylon rippeth, zipper zippeth, whoop-de-do, which is to say, the springtime cometh"). For Cole Porter's urbane lyrics, her precise, finishing-school...
Those of us (me) who though last year that MacLeish's abbreviated line form would sound too much like a staccato chant on stage got our preconceptions singed. Here is a playwright who is not afraid of beautiful literate language, and none too soon. He has rejuvenated the anemic field of Poetic Drama Since Shakespeare. J.B.'s quality of language and quality of thought make it one of the few plays worth paying Broadway's orchestra-seat ransoms...