#la

The music of revelation announces itself to the reader in somber brooding tones or in melodies light as air and one is invited to dance with the most captivating of partners: poetry. ↗

— Aberjhani

#dancing #famous-poets #famous-quotes #literacy #music

There was a euphoria in the music and the way it was delivered, and as the crowds started to get bigger, it fed off itself until it became less about the band and more about being with all those people jumping up and down, drunk to the music. ↗

— Noel Gallagher

#noel-gallagher #oasis #music

Concerto soloists need applause. Though virtue is said to be its own reward, no one ever said that about virtuosity. ↗

— Joseph Kerman

#music

...or music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts. ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#music

Having considered Handel's tumultuous opera career and his first term at Covent Garden in the 1730s, perhaps we may dare to suggest he was one of the foremost pioneers in establishing autonomy within the traditional system of music patronage, notwithstanding his efforts to become an independent impressario often proved disappointing. ↗

— E.A. Bucchianeri

#composers #covent-garden #handel #impressario #music-patronage

Early Summer, loveliest season, The world is being colored in. While daylight lasts on the horizon, Sudden, throaty blackbirds sing. The dusty-colored cuckoo cuckoos. "Welcome, summer" is what he says. Winter's unimaginable. The wood's a wickerwork of boughs. Summer means the river's shallow, Thirsty horses nose the pools. Long heather spreads out on bog pillows. White bog cotton droops in bloom. Swallows swerve and flicker up. Music starts behind the mountain. There's moss and a lush growth underfoot. Spongy marshland glugs and stutters. Bog banks shine like ravens' wings. The cuckoo keeps on calling welcome. The speckled fish jumps; and the strong Swift warrior is up and running. A little, jumpy, chirpy fellow Hits the highest note there is; The lark sings out his clear tidings. Summer, shimmer, perfect days. ↗

— Marie Heaney

#fionn-mac-cumhaill #folklore #ireland #poetry #summer

Often when he was not working he had come here and sat an entire afternoon, lulled by the din and music from the other rooms into a state of vague ecstasy, while he contemplated the small sheet of water outside the window. It was that happy frame of mind into which his people could project themselves so easily - the mere absence of immediate unpleasant preoccupation could start it off, and a landscape which included the sea, a river, a fountain, or anything that occupied the eye without engaging the mind, was of use in sustaining it. It was the world behind the world, where reflection precludes the necessity for action, and the calm which all things seek in death appears briefly in the guise of contentment, the spirit at last persuaded that the still waters of perfection are reachable. ↗

— Paul Bowles

#perfection #death

A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold; While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars?- Then you've a hunch was the music meant...hunger and night and the stars. ↗

— Robert Service

#alone #gold #music #music

The Heavenly Spheres make music for us, The Holy Twelve dance with us, All things join in the dance! Ye who dance not, know not what we are knowing. ↗

— Gustav Holst

#elation #music #planets #theosophy #music

Robert Kapilow is a born teacher, an enthusiast who can think on his feet, a 110 percent believer in the project at hand ... It’s a cheering thought that this kind of missionary enterprise did not pass from this earth with Leonard Bernstein. Robert Kapilow is awfully good at what he does. We need him. ↗

— Boston Globe

#music #music