Word: piano
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...music of unamplified instruments above the din of the people at the bar, of the cars in the streets, and of the elevated trains overhead. The result was that Blues became amplified. Guitars were electrified, the singing was carried over a public address system and drums, extra guitars, bass piano and other instruments were added to increase volume and provide music for dancing as well as listening...
...most recent concerts-last week at Philadelphia's Academy of Music, the week before at Manhattan's Metropolitan Museum of Art* Nina and her audiences have connected early on, and it has been a ball all the way. She has danced around her piano once or twice to prove it. For their part, the audiences have greeted her message things with complete concurrence, as well as applause and standing ovations...
Nina's singing and piano playing rank her with Aretha Franklin at the top of the female jazz, blues and soul camp. On piano, she can tinkle along simply like Count Basic or pile chord upon chord like Rubinstein playing Tchaikovsky. At times, her voice has the reedy wobble of a Dixieland clarinet, but it can also whisper, wail, or break in above the instrumental accompaniment like an Indian shehnai. As Ray Charles notes, nobody ever comes close to imitating her, or even trying, "probably because everybody knows she's the only...
Nina was born Eunice Kathleen Waymon in 1935 in Tryon, N.C., the sixth of eight children. Father was a handyman, Mother a Methodist minister. Both were musical, and Nina began taking classical piano lessons at seven. Bach soon became (and remains) her favorite: "There's always a place he's going and he gets there and he comes down gently. That's perfection." In 1953, after a year of study at Manhattan's Juilliard School of Music (paid for by friends back home), she landed a $90-a-week job playing piano...
...conventions, and urgent desires for new musical vocabularies. The result has been that the schism between composer and listener, which is an unmistakable sign of health, has become so broad that orchestras will not play new works. Even when they do, as in the cases of Elliott Carter's Piano Concerto or Milton Babbitt's Relata II, they cause outbreaks of hysterical recrimination, especially in those citadels of analytical dross, The New York Times and The New Yorker. The modern composer faces an audience whose taste is a brew of remembrance and indigestion, appealing for Beethoven, Tchaikowsky, and Verdi...