Word: pianist
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...poems, as in the West-Eastern Divan of the German writer Goethe. Its newest meaning is a special kind of music. The West-Eastern Divan is the name of an orchestra dreamt up after the chance meeting in a London hotel of an unlikely couple, Israeli conductor and pianist Daniel Barenboim and U.S.-based Palestinian writer and critic Edward Said. The players are equally unlikely: 78 musicians aged 13 to 26, roughly half of them Jewish, half from Arab countries. Last week, as the West-Eastern Divan rehearsed in a former Catholic seminary outside this southern Spanish city, Barenboim explained...
...Jazz pianist and music concentrator Geoffrey S. Fuchs, class of 2002, died of melanoma Saturday, Aug. 3 at Massachusetts General Hospital...
...Jeff Beck, ad infinitum ad gloriam, closed that case. And Jerry Lee would be the definitive piano rocker in part because he was, in the music's infancy, one of its last. (The saxophone, primal ax of early rock, also went nearly extinct.) He worked under another disadvantage: A pianist, unlike a guitarist, couldn't take his instrument to a gig; at least back then he didn't. Janes ascribes some of Lewis' extreme behavior on the road to his annoyance at being given "some pretty bad pianos to play... A lot of the wild stuff he did on piano...
...into his vocal. This is a 12-bar blues with a difference: the breaks come not in the first two lines (as in, say, Little Richard's "Long Tall Sally") but in the fourth and sixth, giving the lyric room to build to a natural dramatic climax and the pianist room to paint his sound-portrait. Of course there's a slew of arpeggios (eight, to the all-time record 11 in "Great Balls") and the satyr-singer's invocation of the magic moment "when your hips start rockin'/ Honey, and your knees start knockin'." For a transcendent 1min...
...There are even some newcomers, including the Scot-Indian Cameron. After living in Australia, Britain and Africa, he says he's finally found his home. Before arriving in McCluskieganj, his restless blood led him through a rainbow of identities, from Indian army captain to cocktail pianist, author to pilot, headmaster to racehorse breeder. Yet only in McCluskieganj, he says, among his fellow outsiders, is he truly himself. "Because I'm rather swarthy, people in England and Australia mistake me for an African or an Aboriginal," he says. "Nobody knows who you are or what you are. But here, in this...