ThursdayNov 21, 2024
Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969
A musicologist is a person who can read music but can't hear it.
My father, Beecham confided, came to me one Christmas and said, 'Look, here, my lad, I've been spendin' a lot o' brass on your musical education, and now Ah wants you to help me.' (Every year Beecham's Pills produced a Christmas Carol Annual). 'Now Tom,' continued my father, 'I want you to go through the Annual and alter some of th' verses so as to promote th' business.' Thomas retired to his study and came up with the following: Hark! the herald angels sing! Beecham's Pills are just the thing, Two for a woman one for a child.... Peace on Earth and mercy mild! These sentiments, Beecham related, especially the ellipsis, seem to me admirably to express the rapture which is occasioned by a good effortless release.
Brass bands are all very well in their place outdoors and several miles away.
Great music is that which penetrates the ear with facility and leaves the memory with difficulty. Magical music never leaves the memory.
The British like any kind of music so long as it is loud.
The English may not like music, but they absolutely love the noise it makes.
'Have you heard any Stockhausen?' Beecham was asked. 'No, but I believe I have stepped in some.'
Music first and last should sound well, should allure and enchant the ear. Never mind the inner significance.
A musicologist is a man who can read music but can't hear it.
A soprano in Massenet's Don Quixote complained that she had missed her entry in the aria, 'because Mr. Challiapin always dies too soon.' 'Madam, you must be profoundly in error,' said Sir Thomas, 'No operatic star has yet died half soon enough for me.'
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