Word: fitzgerald
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...sing like I feel," Ella Fitzgerald would say. By that casual standard, it was a wonderful life. She sang some of the best music ever written in America, and, feeling it, she sang it wonderfully. For many, indeed, she sang it definitively. "I never knew how good our songs were," Ira Gershwin once remarked, "until I heard Ella Fitzgerald sing them." By the time she died at home in Beverly Hills last week at 78, she had spread the treasure of her voice over thousands of songs and half a dozen generations, cutting everyone in on the wonder. There...
...with Chick Webb's Big Band in the mid-'30s, when she was still a teenager, and later did a lot of swinging and scatting with Dizzy Gillespie. But it was her collaboration in the '50s with producer/manager Norman Granz on a benchmark series of "songbook" albums that gave Fitzgerald the musical regentship that never passed from her. "Norman felt that I should do other things," she remembered, "so he produced the Cole Porter Songbook with me. It was a turning point in my life...
...smoldering glare, Krall could easily have been mistaken for a big-screen starlet. But appearances aside, the moment she launched into the opening notes of Carter's classic heartbreaker, Fresh Out of Love, it was clear that this compelling new singer has more in common with Ella Fitzgerald than with any Hollywood actress...
Never mind that most Americans aren't familiar with this fast-paced game; the U.S. men's and women's handball teams got an All-American introduction at Planet Hollywood in Atlanta. "It's water polo without the water, or soccer but you use your hands," says handballer Thomas Fitzgerald. While the men's Olympic team is still far behind powerhouses France and Sweden, the women's, led by twins Tami and Toni Jameson, has a shot at the first U.S. medal in the sport...
...Last of the Savages (Knopf; 271 pages; $24) spans the past three decades and is larded with big themes and echoes of big American writers: the strange romanticism of Fitzgerald's class envy; a Faulknerian obsession with slavery's enduring "curse" on the South; stoic, Hemingwayesque suffering amid sexual loss; and--novelists must have some consistency in their concerns--passages of Herculean drug abuse in the manner of Jay McInerney...