Spring arrived late this year in Northeast Ohio, and — as every upstanding, lawn-mowing citizen knows — we’re now in dandelion season. First: hats off to the dandelion, which has arguably the best reproductive design on Earth. Still, they do wreak havoc on the lawn, taking up undue measures of soil and sun where grass might otherwise thrive.
Our family includes a Wheaton terrier, so we refrain from going all RoundUp on the posteriors of the dandelions–but the dog-and-dandelion combination got me thinking: if you could create a breed of dogs who eat dandelions, you could make millions, take a chunk out of Monsanto’s business (with the decrease in RoundUp purchases), and keep toxins out of your local watershed.
How to pay attention: it’s the challenge of our time–no pun intended. This smart chat between Sarah Einstein and Sven Birkerts evokes one of my favorite adages for writers: “don’t just do something. Sit there.” https://lnkd.in/eaB9zHM
Just a brief note today, before I return to the work of my clients: Leonard Bernstein served our country well, bridging the chasm between Beethoven and The Beatles in a lifelong ecstasy dedicated to teaching and the performing arts. When his funeral procession made its way from Manhattan to Greenwood Cemetery, construction workers doffed their hats and shouted out, “Goodbye, Lenny.”
This new biography does a great service to history and Bernstein’s legacy, and this review is quite smart. It’s an interesting rhetorical move, though, to make the argument so early in an essay not to proceed to the next paragraph.
(Perhaps it was an editor’s decision. Ha!) There are, of course, many more things to say about Bernstein, whose work as a teacher reached millions of young Americans via the Young People’s Concerts, and included lessons about the virtues of The Kinks and The Beatles, too. I don’t have time to make the argument here, but I suggest that Bernstein played a fundamental role in the capacity of the American public to regard the *Sgt. Pepper’s* LP as a work of art.
Hey there! Thanks for checking in. My blog typically focuses on writing and editing, but select events can preempt that focus. Plus, it’s still writing!
Jazz pianist and poet Cecil Taylor died yesterday. He turned 89 in March–a bonus year, perhaps, for one of the most fascinating and durable figures in jazz who came of age in the post-bop era, and treated the piano as if it were 88 tuned drums.
Just think: Taylor was born in 1929 (Queens, NY), only three years after John Coltrane’s birth, and Taylor outlived him by 40 years. I was fortunate to see Cecil Taylor with marimba, bass, and drums at Yoshi’s in Oakland around 1993, and that band was absolutely, brilliantly noisy. And swinging. The combo’s dynamics were so robust, I found the show most rewarding by listening (and watching) the virtuosi discretely, by framing my attention on Taylor first, and listening to the piano against and with the rest of the quartet, and then training my ears on the marimba, and repeating.
Perhaps his death will spur someone at A&M to make available *In Florescence* for digital purchase. It’s one of his non-canonical albums, but my absolute fave. In the meantime, here’s a video with that quartet sans bassist a couple years later.