Grasshopper

An hour and 20 minutes of magnificent hypnosis, which justifies (at least in part) the fact that there’s little, if any, discussion of the music afterward. In my opinion, it has little to envy from the more famous Koln Concert and Paris Concert, even though the latter, for unknown and irrational reasons, remains my favorite.

The Symphonic Studies have been one of the cornerstones of the great Sviatoslav Richter, of whom some critics, unable to find any other flaw, claimed that he "played too well," meaning he had perfect technique but was somewhat cold. This was an opinion I have never shared, (and the interpretation Mullah so admirably discusses is a valid proof of that). I therefore join in this very useful recommendation of a must-have record for anyone who loves the piano.

Nick genius like the comment... like the "smart" bombs (what a thrill)

Once again, the usual problem that Punisher (and others) either don't understand or pretend not to understand. Speaking eloquently, at least so far, is not a crime. Particularly when the subject at hand is this, namely the most mysterious and sublime Beethoven, who manages to express in music the chilling inner silence that accompanies his deafness, with that "Arietta" that seems to stretch toward infinity... in short, when the subject is Art, Emotion, Life, can someone explain to me why on earth the language should remain pedestrian? For the rest, I share the opinion on the interpretation by Benedetti Michelangeli (whom I also know), and I would like to suggest, almost as a counterpoint, that of Claudio Arrau, who manages to give sharper outlines to this prodigious example of "silence in music," which may not be what Beethoven intended, but is certainly very impactful.

Here perfection has not yet been achieved, but we are close now ("Nursery Cryme" will be the first of an incredible series of masterpieces, unfortunately not very long).

To find the real one, Renato, you have to go back quite a bit, and anyway it lasted very little: I would keep the album "Trapezio" (1976) and then a few isolated songs, but never a whole decent record. In my opinion, the beginning of the end was precisely that "Mi vendo": a promise kept. Perhaps even too much.

That she has a beautiful voice is the only thing I agree on. But something has to matter about what she sings too, right? And there's no point in dwelling on this: for over 30 years, she has been serving us the same nonsense from the diary of a brainless adolescent (and the bulk of her audience can be found in this category, along with a few nostalgic late bloomers who refuse to accept that they are no longer 12). This comes from someone who, at that fateful age, was indeed enchanted by this plastic diva, but by the age of 15, I couldn't stand all that pompous rhetoric, the monologues at the end of meaningless songs, and all the sideshow antics of our Renato. Only saving the voice, of course.

It’s the strangest classical review I’ve ever read so far. Or rather, it's more like an expression of a state of mind, with hardly any hint at the work that prompted it. A way of writing that I personally do not share, but that also doesn’t seem right to dismiss "a priori" as some have done. Rather, I wonder: if such an overdose of shocking sensations is associated with music that is elegant but, all in all, not particularly deep like Vivaldi’s, I would be curious to know what MuSo’s reactions are when listening to a symphony by Brahms, not to mention one by Mahler.

I only have 4 Zappa albums, including this one. There must be a reason for that. It's incredible that the review was still missing: a serious gap, brilliantly filled.

Generally, the farmer who stopped in Roncocesi makes me think of strong arms taken from agriculture, which, after all, is quite profitable in his area. However, I would save two of his records: one is this one, the other is "Oro incenso e birra." Nothing special, mind you, but a good Italian easy-listening. The blues is to be found elsewhere. I would also save the review.