Word: way
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...gaily rippling score had lost little of its sparkle in an arrangement for two pianos. The staging moved apace, with six zanies shifting the scenery in amusing dance patterns while the play went on. No voices were outstanding, but Haydn's rollicking ensembles and the well-rehearsed way the Lemonaders sang them were the hit of the show. Next biggest hit: the eminently singable, notably contemporary English libretto of onetime Berlin Music Critic John Gutman, who now has a job in Manhattan's Wall Street. Sample, from a quintet pondering the advisability of admitting the miserly father...
Perfection. To Landowska, "this is my last will and testament. I have to make it perfect." She was taking plenty of time to make it that way-to make sure that exactly the balance and quality she wanted to hear would come off the wax. In her weekly sessions, she had worked 42 hours, making retake after retake, to record 45 minutes of music. At 70 (her birthday is actually July 5), the somewhat mystic, sometimes earthy little Polish-born woman is the acknowledged high priestess of the harpsichord, the sweet-sounding, twangy-bangy instrument she rescued from oblivion...
When Capot and Palestinian headed into the stretch five lengths in front of the field, Atkinson gave Capot the whip and pulled clear. He had Palestinian beaten. But where was Ponder? Atkinson would never forget the way Ponder charged by him when he thought he had the Kentucky Derby won last month. As sometimes happens to slow beginners, Ponder had gotten mousetrapped down on the rail. When he worked free he put on a run that brought the crowd of 40,421 up on tiptoe. But 20 yards from the finish, Atkinson "turned his stick" and relaxed; Capot nailed...
...glad to say there are a lot of things today with which I am not contented ... I am not contented with the road system in Newbury . . . nor do I like the control of mosquitoes ... I am not contented with the Boston & Maine Railroad . . . nor do I like the way poison ivy keeps growing near my house...
...opera, consistently delighted his tight, bright circle of admirers with such fantasies as Procession (see cut), in which evil red eyes peep from a paraded kettle. "See?" Burra says, "It's going to boil over and swamp them all. The beggar is getting out of the way-he hasn't a chance...