Word: glees
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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HORROR stories of the grimmest complexion filtered through the week concerning the imminent disintegration of the HRO's impending Beethoven Ninth concert. The Choirs, supposedly stripped of their talents by the reorganization of the Glee Club, were said to be less than protean musicreaders, and in general hopelessly inadequate to the almost insuperable vocal difficulties of Beethoven's masterwork. And so, as I entered the hall I remembered Robert Scott's famous lament at the end of his diary, written as the merciless Antarctic finally buried him: "We took risks; we knew we took them...
...rendered collective judgment that the franc must be devalued. The French braced for the worst, and the money men in capitals around the world prepared for the myriad adjustments in trade and currency flows that a cheaper franc would require. De Gaulle's critics could scarcely contain their glee that, at last, the oracle of the Elysée would be found fallible and forced to retract an utterance...
Many factors were involved in De Gaulle's decision. One of them was pride. The West Germans had failed to mask their glee at France's discomfiture. In fact, the French first learned of the devaluation discussions in Bonn through press reports quoting West Germany's Finance Minister Franz-Josef Strauss. After the final session, Strauss implied that the devaluation was a foregone conclusion. "The French government has to decide the extent of it," he said...
WHILE MOST OF YOU were perishing in the diabolical black fire of this neo-Dadaist life in America, agonizing over Harvard's impending football doom like a particle in the livid-frigid Flux, I decided to drop in on the Cecilia Society and the Glee Club concerts at the still point of the burning world. "Song is the key," I reasoned, "for only the rapture of song links such disparate spirits as Arjuna, Chemosh, Mailer, Nixon, Tristan, Bruckner, and the confluence of latent universal souls thrashing about in the torpid light of Art. Let us ublimate the manifold contradictions...
STILL SEEKING that ineffable moment. I attended the risorgimiento of the Harvard Glee Club in the annual Harvard-Yale concert. The Yale group began with a thin version of Palestrina's Supplicationes for main chorus and responsive small choir (which joined me in the Tibetan heights of the upper balcony) and proceeded to good performances of Holst's delightful Blacksmith Song and Dowland's beautiful Come Again, Sweet Love. Their part closed with a stupendously tedious arrangement by Fenno Heath of Donne's Death Be Not Proud. The Harvard Glee Club performed a less interesting program except for a mildly...