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Using as its text the loveliest passage from The Merchant of Venice the Serenade was composed in 1938 for the jubilee of the great conductor Sir Henry Wood(who once turned down the directorship of the Boston Symphony), but has justifiably long outlived its original occasion. The piece is stylistic conservatism at its best; for sheer sensuous serenity it would be hard to beat. Yesterday's players were joined by thirty-odd members of the Summer School Chorus, well prepared by Professor Harold C. Schmidt. The concertmistress solo fiddling wandered off pitch a bit, and the orchestra in general never...

Author: By Caldwell Titcomb, | Title: Cantabrigia Orchestra | 8/11/1967 | See Source »

...nonfiction treatise The Discoverie of Witchcraft. But Shakespeare worked everything up into a fresh plot of his own -- or, rather, a skillfully unified interlocking set of three plots -- involving four classes of people from supernatural beings down to manual laborers. And on this work he lavished lots of his loveliest language...

Author: By Caldwell Titcomb, | Title: Middling 'Midsummer Night's Dream' Opens | 7/3/1967 | See Source »

Jean Marshall's Countess was less successful. Her voice never blended with the other, and "Dove sono i beimomento," which must be the loveliest aria in the opera, came out nervous and constricted. She might have been singing in Martian for all the words I could make...

Author: By Stephen Hart, | Title: The Marriage of Figaro | 4/29/1967 | See Source »

...loveliest ballads that Beers has preserved is Dumbarton's Drums...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Folk Singers: Life from the Hearthside | 1/6/1967 | See Source »

Dreams of Snakes. Sidonie Gabrielle Colette was the youngest kitten of a hardy litter that ran wild on a manor-farm in Burgundy. "Look!" their lusty mother cried a hundred times a day, "Look!" Colette looked, and her descriptions of the farm include some of the loveliest pages in the literature of childhood. "Even then, when I was only five, I so loved the dawn that I would go alone through the mist in search of strawberries, black currants and hairy gooseberries, my blue eyes deepened by the blurred and dewy greenery all around me, my pride swelling at being...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Look! | 5/20/1966 | See Source »

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