Word: counterpointing
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Frank Glazer Plays Musical Autographs (Concert-Disc). The musical calling cards of the great composers as they were inscribed in various souvenir albums. Included are Mozart's Marche Funebre del Signor Maestro Contrapunto (Funeral March of Master Counterpoint), a mock-heroic exercise for his pupil, Babette Ployer; Beethoven's graceful and pensive Bagatelle for Therese Malfatti, the 18-year-old niece of his doctor; Wagner's Ankunft bei den Schwarzen Schwänen (Arrival at the Black Swans), which sounds a little like Tristan und Isolde as written by Frédéric Chopin...
Something New. Now heard was a new sound, the unmistakable counterpoint of jungle drums: the throb of Africa. It first came through in the pavanlike procession in which the delegations of twelve new African nations* marched across the floor to take their places for the first time, each aware that his own nation, however young, inexperienced, poor or thumbnail-sized, is armed with a vote as meaningful as that of any of the great powers. And while U.N. votes are but feathers in the world balance of power, the world would read them as the visible talismans of cold...
There is a lot of Marilyn to admire these days, but it is still in fine fettle; at 34, she makes 21 look ridiculous. The smile that reassures nervous males ("It's all right, I'm not real") has never been more dazzling. And the comic counterpoint of fleshy grandeur and early Shirley Temple manner is better than ever. But despite Mrs. Miller, the film is not really good low humor. It is merely good-humored. Co-Star Yves Montand, the French music hall singer, is urbane and masculine, but he seems constrained by a part that requires...
...chick, drag, gasser, cool it, bug, dig, weirdo and all that jazz. He also mixes in a never-ending supply of phrases parodying academic jargon ("We must learn to differentiate between generic and relative terms"). Between jokes, he draws on a fat little glossary of verbal rialtos that counterpoint the laughter, indicate his attitude to the material. "Wild, huh?" he will say, standing in the ruins of his most recent target, or "You can't go too far, fellas," or "Is there any group I haven't offended...
...Since the major characters are 16-year-olds, these flashbacks are mercifully short, if overly sentimental; the boys seem to have grown up surrounded by sweet, long-suffering mothers and avuncular lieutenants, with hardly a Nazi in sight. But these scenes from the boys' past merely serve as counterpoint to the adventure at the bridge and as clues to the variety of boyish responses, which range from terror to heroism. Gregor's bitter little novel labors no point, nor does it have to. The futility it illustrates would have been depressing enough even if it had been grown...