Word: glees
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...proves the truth of that maxim with its targets. At first, the shots are scattered in the air, like careless shouts. Then one lands point-blank in the face of a bank clerk. Blood hurts onto the screen, and from that instant, the audience is torn between horror and glee...
This was the concert the Harvard musical world has been waiting for. More than that of the Glee Club or even the HRO, it was slated to be the highlight of the concert season. John C. Adams is the most professional and professionally-minded student conductor Harvard has seen in half a dozen years. In addition he has won respect as a solo clarinetist and chamber musician. Daniel Troob, the excellent continuo-player in Adams's superb production of The Marriage of Figaro, was to team up with him again as the soloist in the Mozart Piano Concerto...
...began singing in his high school glee club during the War. When his interests turned to rhythm and blues, he purchased a six-string Spanish guitar and an instruction book. Three years later, he started a small combo that played the cheaper clubs around St. Louis. The receptionists at four recording studios rejected him before he finally signed with Chess Records. After Maybelline, he went from a $14-a-night stand in East St. Louis to a thousand-dollar matinee in Cleveland...
Once the Harvard Glee Club stepped out on stage, however, the Princetonians were definitely out-classed. Under Elliott Forbes the Glee Club sang works of composers ranging from the late Renaissance Claudin de Sermisy and the mid-Baroque Dietrich Buxtehude to the sardonic child of the Twenties, Francis Poulenc. Theirs was a full-bodied sound, with the kind of focus and control that was totally absent in the Princeton group. The latter has the same basic sensitivity, but they lack the sheen and polish that make the Harvard Glee Club so irresistible in spite of everything. Both groups suffered from...
Finally, the program ended with the Princeton, Harvard and Harvard Freshmen Glee Clubs all massed on the stage. First, Princeton's Old Nassau, with its curious arm-cross-chest motion that looks like so many meaculpas; then, with a theoretical tear in each eye, Believe . . .oops . . . Fair Harvard. And as the last strains of that fine old Victorian melody faded into our collective memory, one could almost hear a little voice accompanying us into the cold night: Goodbye, Columbus . . . goodbye, Columbus . . . goodbye...