Word: twitterers
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...practice, it can sound like straight samba music with an occasional solo twitter or two thrown in for jazz flavor, or like the meditative, moody farther reaches of chamber jazz. But when it is tastefully done, it has great appeal, with the long, sinewy lines of improvising jazzmen pinned dramatically against richly filigreed percussion backgrounds...
...butchers inspect her expertly, as though she were a carcass too. She flutters to her manager (Dominique Davray), a hard-faced businesswoman who comforts her meticulously but unemotionally, as though smoothing a 500-franc note. She flies back to her gilded cage in time to preen and twitter for the man who keeps her for the same reasons he keeps a second car: convenience and ostentation. Her songwriters arrive, and the canary mechanically warbles a few love songs she has sung a hundred times before without a pulse of feeling; but suddenly now they crush her heart and she flies...
...Vera Miles). Adultery thus spectacularly excused, massed violins take over and sweep the lovers away to a villa drowsing in jasmine by the passion-tossed Tyrrhenian, to a rose-covered cottage in the meadowy environs of Paris. "Just be with me whenever you can," she croons, as the finches twitter in the flowering plum, "and I'll be happy the rest of my life." Ah, but when he cannot be with her, she tastes the bitterness of what the ads call "borrowed love." One solitary Thanksgiving Day she calls home to Nebraska and, hearing all the dear familiar voices...
...played by the New York Philharmonic under Assistant Conductor Seymour Lipkin. Each of Diamond's four musical pictures was introduced by a "frame," which served the same mood-setting function that Mussorgsky's "promenades" do in Pictures from an Exhibition. Like Schuller, Composer Diamond used Twittering Machine as the inspiration for one of his pieces, but he saw it in more somber tones: muted, dark-hued movements of the strings, with the picture's more jagged lines delineated by scampering woodwinds and brasses. Dance of the Grieving Child, a pen-and-ink sketch in which the child...
...Whoo. Whoo. Twitter. Z-o-o-om. MA-A-A-CHINE!" The sounds whooped and wallowed in the semidarkness, seemed to race one another, swooped head on into ear-splitting collisions. Under the domed ceiling, lights wriggled and flickered, reeled and burst in dazzling, flaky showers. A voice came booming in: "MATCHWOOD SPLITS INTO MATCHES...