Word: parnassus
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...early this week in Austin, the company winds up a 29-day swing through 18 cities and towns in Texas, Oklahoma and Louisiana. Among the stops: Temple, Stillwater, San Marcos, Eagle Pass, Seguin and Harlingen. At times on such jaunts, a TOT engagement looks less like a brush with Parnassus than a rest stop at Parris Island. "I think it's like the Olympics," says Mezzo-Soprano Susanne Mentzer. "You have to sing, act, put on makeup and ride the bus on top of everything else." A measure of flexibility in casting is required: Galbraith sings the baritone role...
...Terry splices memorized quotations from a drama anthology while Wheeler, a translator, punctuates with footnotes. Terry declaims wildly and Wheeler answers, "Hedda Gabler--I think the Reinert translation," launching Terry into another recitation, from another play, which logically follows in the train of conversation. Terry knows his predecessors in Parnassus, knows them too well, in fact, ever to join them...
...other Brothers' song is "Just My Imagination," the old Temptations' hit. "'Magination" is one of my Absolute/Top Ten/Slopes of Parnassus favorites, and the Brothers do it well enough to justify alone the cost of the album which is only $5, and you can't even fart for $5 these days). Lee Davision arranged it real slow and bluesy, like it wasn't just imagination but maybe a friendly visit to the hookah as well; a bass dum-de-dums the rhythm in the background, and altogether: well, listen to it yourself. 'Just My Imagination' is the showpiece of the second...
...godmother of European artists. She came to maturity in the Belle Epoque, "a beautiful time for those who were privileged," and she brought zest, taste, a tart tongue and plenty of money to a role she never tired of. If she was a climber, the mountain was Parnassus...
...mocked as a student, ten years before, with an acrid parody of Puvis de Chavannes's Sacred Grove, into whose pallid scattering of muses he introduced a line of stray moderns from a Paris street, including his stunted self, back turned, urinating on the turf of Parnassus. Lautrec thought the timeless and the eternal a boring joke, and in At the Moulin Rouge he offered the alternative: let the aesthetes dedicate themselves to Higher Thought, but he would stick with gaslight, friends and the fallen soul...