Word: hornings
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...modest homosexual past, a nonchurchgoing Roman Catholic, but a devout snob and a glutton, a sexman and a Potterish ployman of epic pretensions. His exploits in one-upmanship take the form of a baroque conversational style, impeccable scholarship in cigars, and a collection of snuffboxes with appropriate snuff (antelope horn for the Otterburn mix). He hates progress, Protestants, Negroes, Jews, Americans, today and tomorrow. Such a man, Amis implies, has done very nicely thank-you in England, but in the U.S. he suffers cruel and unusually funny punishment for all these things...
...horn of Africa, a man would cut a throat for a camel. Since Somalia won its independence in 1960, throats have been cut in plenty as lithe, black, spear-swinging Somali nomads crossed with their herds into neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia to fight over water rights and grazing lands. Last week the cost of a camel was approximately war, and blood spilled on the horn...
Whops & Skeletons. The opening program, last month, was a shocker; lulled by Beethoven's Second Symphony, the audience was suddenly jolted by the whapping of wood blocks and the toneless horn-blowing of Yannis Xenakis' Pithoprakta. The Greek composer's work was so radical that this first U.S. performance sounded something like skeletons dancing in a wind tunnel. The audience found Bernstein's comments condescending. "A lot of mathematical formulas which I cannot follow," he said of the composition...
...commissioned by the Chamber Music Society of Baltimore and completed in 1960, is a vast rhapsody. Like a long cadenza, it exploits constant shifts of timbre, pace, and loudness. A recognizable motif stated at the beginning of the first of the two movements is repeated later by the French horn; aside from that recurrence, little apparent form but great passion animates the work...
...beauty of Olmi's firm lies in his suggestion that even this gray existence contains moments which justify the trumpets of his title--moments that make them more than the toy horn Domenico awkardly tweetles at the party, more than the imaginary bugles his mother must blow to wake him for work. In part they celebrate the quiet heroism required to endure the drabness of day to day experience. More important, they herald those unexpected appearances which break the stultifying regularity in which Domenico finds himself trapped; the possibility of love and the hope that love promises...