 The Clarinet BBoard
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Author: Alseg
Date: 2012-01-29 14:23
Great response to a cell phone interuption:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-16688007
Moderator please convert to a workable link. Thanks
Former creator of CUSTOM CLARINET TUNING BARRELS by DR. ALLAN SEGAL
-Where the Sound Matters Most(tm)-
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Author: Tobin
Date: 2012-01-29 16:59
It appears light-hearted, but I can imagine there's a little bit of seriously pissed off in his stare down as he's playing.
I imagine I would be too.
James
Gnothi Seauton
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Author: davyd
Date: 2012-01-29 18:09
That might be effective for a soloist who can improvise. But how would an ensemble or an orchestra do it?
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Author: Claire Annette
Date: 2012-01-29 19:08
True story:
A few years ago, a lady's phone rang loud and clear during our evening worship service. Our pastor, who has a great sense of humor, went up to this church member and said, Oh, please! Let ME answer that!" She gave him the phone and he said,"Hello, who is this? Oh, hi! This is the pastor. What are you up to? Me? Oh, I'm preaching a sermon right now."
The entire congregation had a good laugh...and checked to see that their own phones were turned off.
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Author: MarlboroughMan
Date: 2012-01-29 22:23
Great stuff.
Wynton Marsalis has done this sort of thing too.
Here's a quote from David Hadju's "Wynton's Blues" (The Atlantic, March 2003):
"The fourth song was a solo showcase for the trumpeter, who, I could now see, was indeed Marsalis, but who no more sounded than looked like what I expected. He played a ballad, "I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance With You," unaccompanied. Written by Victor Young, a film-score composer, for a 1930s romance, the piece can bring out the sadness in any scene, and Marsalis appeared deeply attuned to its melancholy. He performed the song in murmurs and sighs, at points nearly talking the words in notes. It was a wrenching act of creative expression. When he reached the climax, Marsalis played the final phrase, the title statement, in declarative tones, allowing each successive note to linger in the air a bit longer. "I don't stand ... a ghost ... of ... a ... chance ..." The room was silent until, at the most dramatic point, someone's cell phone went off, blaring a rapid singsong melody in electronic bleeps. People started giggling and picking up their drinks. The moment—the whole performance—unraveled.
Marsalis paused for a beat, motionless, and his eyebrows arched. I scrawled on a sheet of notepaper, MAGIC, RUINED. The cell-phone offender scooted into the hall as the chatter in the room grew louder. Still frozen at the microphone, Marsalis replayed the silly cell-phone melody note for note. Then he repeated it, and began improvising variations on the tune. The audience slowly came back to him. In a few minutes he resolved the improvisation—which had changed keys once or twice and throttled down to a ballad tempo—and ended up exactly where he had left off: "with ... you ..." The ovation was tremendous."
Eric
******************************
The Jazz Clarinet
http://thejazzclarinet.blogspot.com/
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