Piano World Home Page Forums Our Most Popular Forums Pianist Corner - Non Classical Let's Talk Weddings

September Song in its original setting is pretty nasty, where it is a dirty old man (Peter Styuvesant, played by Walter "No voice, no range!" Huston) coercing a young woman.

There are more opportunities to play September Song than one might hope.

Apple, love the Reta story. Never know where those breast implants might lead.

and more about Reta. When she was suddenly penniless, she moved in with me into my apartment. She could never make the rent because she was always buying clothes. she gave me her gorgeous Italian (family inheritence) furniture.. a couple upholstered chairs, a coffee and end table and a bed. After she was married she knocked on my door and said 'Carl wants my furniture.. he thinks you stole it from me.' I said 'just take it'. I didn't like Carl at that point. I loved and missed her tho. Over the years she paid me back from her spending money.. secretly, no doubt. I saw her at a pet store once, buying a duck for her daughter before Easter. She gave me 800 bucks then and sent me cards with money over the years.. about 2400 dollars.

We were quite the cute pair. We'd go out and all the guys would hover around our table. Reta was really cute.. very skinny with HUGE boobs and face like Twiggy. Apparently her boobs pretty much grew back after they were reduced. She put on some much needed weight. .. so, oh well.

Robin, I'd love to see a picture of that sleek white mini dress with the chiffon train. I bet it was gorgeous.

(i love checking the Sartorialist blog weekly.

"Apparently her boobs pretty much grew back after they were reduced. She put on some much needed weight. .. so, oh well."

"What God hath joined together, let no man rend asunder." That's the way I see it.

Almost against my will, Apple, I find I have to believe every word of these stories. They have that ring of verity; who could make them up, except possibly Colette. You know, her birthday (and Artur Rubenstein's) was just day-before-yesterday, and I sort of wanted to work it into this thread, but that does take art. Some days, I'm just not there. My stories don't just (at least seem to) simply tell themselves as yours do, with that artless inevitability. And Tim's. That tale of the child mixing up the handbells and causing a train wreck during the Christmas performance! We should know the wind-up as soon as we hear 'child' and 'handbells' mentioned, yet it's so delicious to watch the leaning tower lean, tilt, and totter... slowly, slowly, slowly though it might be, it would be wiser to stand clear.

I think the way you loved your friend, Apple, and appreciated the charm even of her waywardness, is the mainspring... that could drive almost any story. Not everyone would tolerate her behavior--- but we all want to be loved like that, as undeserving as we might be.

Anyway. Colette. Her most famous work was Gigi, thanks to the Lerner and Loewe stage and screen musical adaptations. As frothy as the novella is, it's a little hard to see it being written in Paris during the darkest years of the German occupation (it was published in 1944). But, like Apple's friend, Gigi ends up marrying the wealthy sugar magnate, after turning him down flat for the usual deal as a kept woman with a negotiated financial arrangement. For Gigi, it's love or nothing.

Such is fame... and the power of art. It was also daring and courageous; 'nothing' in those days was a very grim and frightening prospect. My favorite, though, is The Vagabond. She has dumped the husband, gone on the stage to earn her living as a mime (ugh!), keeps an adorable little bitch named Fosette which she bought out from under another vaudeville performing dogs act. And, she throws out the rich boyfriend who is mad for her to marry him (though I think she finally gives in, in the sequel, and then dumps him for good.) Her charms proved to be more fungible, in the end, than the boyfriend had supposed; she seems him later on the street with his new wife, already impregnated again, and in the company of their first child. I believe she passes him by unobserved.

She can spin these mundane little tales out in the most fascinating way, with a beautiful polish on the prose, even in translation.

And on a strictly gratuitous note: today marks the anniversary of the 1971 release of Carole King's album, Tapestry. It was the longest-charting release ever by a female artist, and sold 25 million copies: No. 1 for 15 weeks, and still on the charts for 305 weeks. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tapestry I heard someone complain about having to perform in those gowns with the scratchy sequins--- Carole never wore anything so glam. No pumps, either; for her, it was flats all the way.

I'm just saying.

Jeff, ...fungible... now that's a word you don't see every day!

Tapestry - I own that album (right, ok, along with 25 million other people lol)

It was one of my favourites and I bet I can still remember the words to most of the songs. I should get some sheet music for them!

OH!!! and the most remarkable part of the Reta story is that Reta's sister is THE Kate Spade.. style goddess and handbag designer. .. surely someone you would know about it you coveted high-end shoes and bags in better stores. I have a Kate story too.. but won't tell it.

my lips are sealed.

I saw them both recently, at the funeral of June, their mother. She was a top model in NY, who came down to the boondocks in KS with her husband who eventually lost all his money. June was cool, she'd offer us vodka and cranberry juices when we were in our twenties. She did live well into her 80s.

enough gossip for now...

Your stories tell themselves wonderfully, Jeff.

...but if you're still troubled by your writing, you might borrow Colette's strategy against writer's block: Her husband would lock her into her study until she produced enough pages.

In googling about Colette to verify my (often inaccurate) memory about that anecdote, I discovered she led a rather, er, flamboyant and unusual life, including a torrid affair with her own stepson and baring a breast while appearing in a burlesque show; at another show she engaged in a passionate kiss with another female actress, leading to a riot at the Moulin Rouge.

Of course, today such antics would lead only to fame and 10-page photo spreads in Entertainment Weekly.

"Colette's strategy against writer's block: Her husband would lock her into her study until she produced enough pages. "

...and sign his own name to the stories, and cash the paychecks for himself.

Small wonder Colette ended up as such a firebrand of rebellion. The only unusual thing is that we know so many details about it. She was way ahead of her time... ahead of time to come, as well.

one can claim notoriety with a wikipedia page. Collette's is quite interesting. Too bad she never read hers. Gigi was one of my favorite childhood movies. I just loved Leslie Caron.

Tapestry was not my favorite album. My roommate in college played it constantly. She would leave and I would put Keith Jarrett on.

i feel the earth move under my feet
i feel the sky tumbling down tumbling down
I feel my heart start to trembling
blah blah blah blah blah

I love Leslie Caron.
I love Carole King.
I love Keith Jarrett.

Growing up I wanted to be all three of them. No wonder I'm a little loopy.

I hesitate to play "I Feel the Earth Move." That's the choking priest song, and I can't get through it without having traumatic flash backs to my days at the Redwood Motor Inn in Pittsburgh.

"...a torrid affair with her own stepson and baring a breast while appearing in a burlesque show; at another show she engaged in a passionate kiss with another female actress, leading to a riot at the Moulin Rouge."

How timely to mention this, Monica:

"February 1, 2004 – Janet Jackson's breast is exposed during the half-time show of Super Bowl XXXVIII, resulting in US broadcasters adopting a stronger adherence to Federal Communications Commission censorship guidelines." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/February_1

...and eventually, a large fine to the network (like they care).

One has to think of the riot that broke out at the premiere of Igor Stravinky's ballet, The Rite of Spring (Le sacre du printemps), in its original version choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky. Some accounts blame the choreography for the scandal; others say the riot was political, and staged. (Some said the same of the Janice/Justin Timberlake caper.) Judging of the matter is impossible, as the choreography has vanished forever and the premiere on May 29, 1913 is beyond living memory, though tongues have not stopped wagging to this very day.

Doing the look-up corrected my own failing memory, which told me that it was staged at the Paris Opera--- but no, it was performed at Théâtre des Champs-Élysées by the Ballets Russes.

Leslie Caron was featured on a TV retrospective of her career not so long ago--- maybe a year or two back--- for TCM. It's hard to realize that she was so very young when she started dancing onscreen with Gene Kelly in "An American in Paris," and created the title role in "Gigi." She's a lovely and intelligent lady, and told wonderful stories; the special is worth watching, if it comes up again.

Perhaps few remember that Louis Jourdan dumped Eva Gabor for Leslie Caron, but that was a mere sidelight among the performances of veterans like Hermione Gingold and Maurice Chevalier, libretto and lyrics by Lerner based on a (cleaned-up for America) novella by Colette, score by Lowe--- what else could you squeeze into one film. Ok, then: directed by Vincente Minelli. Nine Oscars, including Best Film.

Still not enough? The role was originated on stage by then-unknown Audrey Hepburn, who took the 1952 Theatre World Award; the stage version was written by Anita Loos. Gold and more gold, no matter where you look.

not too many weddings in January i think.

the unhitched guys are gearing up for Valentine proposals
and gals are dreaming of the June weddding.

Kansas City is totally covered in snow and I was in the very seedy part of town today, approaching my church from a different direction after doing an errand for mr. apple.

Lots of people were walking.. moms with children towing groceries, gangs of boys and street walkers. .. real streetwalkers out in the afternoon in front of children. I was appalled. I saw tatoo parlors.


my little church set an attendance record of 142 for a Saturday service.. it's all me.

Played for a birthday party last night, but got booted off of the bench by a string quartet who took over right before the end of my first set. They were very good. I listened for awhile then headed home. My husband was performing live on the radio from the Cologne Philharmonie, so I got to hear his concert as I was driving.

John was playing for a Flamenco pianist named Chano Dominquez and a trio of musicians, which included a percussionist named El Piranha and an authentic Flamenco dancer. It occurred to me that broadcasting a concert with a Flamenco dancer is perhaps not the wisest radio choice, but I could hear those flying feet loud and clear. I'm not sure what the audience in the hall thought, but on radio it was quite impressive, although just a little goofy.

No wedding news (I think during the slow months we can be forgiven for resorting to secondary stories, and count on Clef to keep us updated on important dates in Wedding History), but I was in Berlin this week, playing for a fancy pants party for former German president Richard Weizsäcker, who is 91. Big crowd of VIPs and a gorgeous Steinway concert grand. Easy gig. Just background music. I played before the speeches, John's trio played after. It was a full-press Goldsby evening.

Okay, something's up. I have already received four calls to play weddings on April 16th. I booked two of them —one in the afternoon, one in the evening—but had to pass on the other two. Last year it was May 8th. Weird!

Nothing in Wedding History today, as such. But since we're going fishing (ice fishing, in Apple's case--- and by the way, which was it you found appalling, the streetwalkers or the tattoo parlors? Both? I'm going to say, personally, those shamelessly tacky wedding parties where the bride AND bridesmaids can't wear enough to cover up their numerous tats--- were they all streetwalkers?).

Ah well. These bargain basements of the demi-monde serve a need, tattoo parlors and all, and who are we to take the wedding cake out of their mouths.

Anyway. Today is Zsa Zsa's birthday. 1917, if you're wondering. Best I could do. Though Claudio Arrau's birthday is also today, and that is really more interesting.

what is a 94th birthday without a leg to stand on...?

poor dear. hope she is comfie, loved, indulged and well drugged.

That is why Walter Huston as Peter Stuyvesant "walks a little lame" in September Song.

Wasn't he married to Eileen?







Bah-dum-pah!

I'm stumped... was he?

I bow to the master.

I did not expect to be one-upped that rapidly.

Kudos!

I'd like to give you hand for for being so gracious. (i should quit while a head).