Philadelphia Orchestra Quartet Gets Stuck on a Plane in China, Plays Dvořák for Grateful Passengers

When a quar­tet from The Philadel­phia Orches­tra (my home town) recent­ly found itself ground­ed on a plane at the Bei­jing air­port, they decid­ed after three long hours (in coach!) that enough was enough. It was time to pro­vide musi­cal relief to pas­sen­gers shar­ing in their fatigue and frus­tra­tion. Above you’ll find Juli­ette Kan and Daniel Han on vio­lin; Che-Hung Chen on vio­la; and Yumi Kendall on cel­lo, treat­ing every­one to an impromp­tu ver­sion of Dvořák’s String Quar­tet No. 12 in F Major, Op. 96 “Amer­i­can” Finale.

Thanks to Burl for send­ing this our way!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Pak­istani Orches­tra Plays Amaz­ing Ver­sion of Dave Brubeck’s Jazz Clas­sic, “Take Five”

Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” Mov­ing­ly Flash­mobbed in Spain

The Recy­cled Orches­tra: Paraguayan Youth Play Mozart with Instru­ments Clev­er­ly Made Out of Trash

85,000 Clas­si­cal Music Scores (and Free MP3s) on the Web

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Samuel L. Jackson Does a Dramatic Breaking Bad Monologue for Alzheimer’s Charity

Over a career going strong since the sev­en­ties, Samuel L. Jack­son has shown us time and again that he can deliv­er a mono­logue — a boon to the craft of screen act­ing, where brief but pow­er­ful speech­es seemed to have fall­en out of fash­ion just before Jack­son’s rise to fame in the nineties. His per­for­mance as Jheri-curled hit­man Jules Win­n­field in Quentin Taran­ti­no’s Pulp Fic­tion, of course, sup­plied one of the engines of that fame, and who among us does­n’t know at least part of his Bib­li­cal “I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furi­ous anger” from ear­ly in that movie? In the nineties, crit­ics looked to Amer­i­can inde­pen­dent film for excit­ing, inno­v­a­tive sto­ry­telling. At the moment, they look to tele­vi­sion, and specif­i­cal­ly to shows like Break­ing Bad. At the top of the post, you can see these worlds col­lide, with Jack­son’s record­ing of his own ver­sion of one of the series’ best known mono­logues.

As mil­que­toast high school chem­istry teacher turned sav­age­ly cal­cu­lat­ing metham­phet­a­mine entre­pre­neur Wal­ter White, Break­ing Bad’s star Bryan Cranston has deliv­ered more than a few strik­ing mono­logues him­self. Beset by a case of ter­mi­nal lung can­cer, White casts off the man he was to become the man who can, by the fourth sea­son, speak the words he speaks just above to his wife, after she objects to the dan­ger of his new line of work. “Who are you talk­ing to right now?” he asks. “Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you would­n’t believe it. Do you know what would hap­pen if I sud­den­ly decid­ed to stop going in to work? A busi­ness big enough that it could be list­ed on the NASDAQ goes bel­ly-up. Dis­ap­pears. It ceas­es to exist with­out me. No, you clear­ly don’t know who you’re talk­ing to, so let me clue you in. I am not in dan­ger, Skyler. I am the dan­ger.” Jack­son per­formed his ren­di­tion of the mono­logue for an Alzheimer’s Asso­ci­a­tion char­i­ty dri­ve, but I would imag­ine Break­ing Bad’s fans as well as Jack­son’s own would hard­ly mind see­ing him turn up on the show for a prop­er role.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Inside Break­ing Bad: Watch Conan O’Brien’s Extend­ed Inter­view with the Show’s Cast and Cre­ator

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Allen Ginsberg’s Personal Recipe for Cold Summer Borscht

ginsbergsborscht

As sum­mer approach­es, let us look to Allen Gins­berg when we we feel dis­cour­aged by our lack of biki­ni-body. The author of “Sun­flower Sutra” did­n’t shy away from hav­ing his evolv­ing physique doc­u­ment­ed shirt­less or nude. Nar­row mind­ed beau­ty arbiters be damned. The man was well equipped for ten­e­ment liv­ing on the Low­er East Side of New York in the era before air-con­di­tion­ing.

Anoth­er Gins­ber­gian tac­tic for embrac­ing the sea­son’s heat: borscht. Unlike Rudolph Nureyev’s or Cyn­di Lau­per’s favorite from Vesel­ka, the round-the-clock Ukrain­ian din­er a few blocks from Gins­berg’s East Vil­lage home, Gins­berg’s borscht is veg­e­tar­i­an and cold. See the tran­scrip­tion of Gins­berg’s hand­writ­ten recipe below:

COLD SUMMER BORSCHT

Dozen beets cleaned & chopped to bite size sal­ad-size Strips
Stems & leaves also chopped like sal­ad let­tuce
All boiled togeth­er light­ly salt­ed to make a bright red soup,
with beets now soft — boil an hour or more
Add Sug­ar & Lemon Juice to make the red liq­uid
sweet & sour like Lemon­ade

Chill 4 gallon(s) of beet liq­uid -

Serve with (1) Sour Cream on table
(2) Boiled small or halved pota­to
on the side
(i.e. so hot pota­toes don’t heat the
cold soup pre­ma­ture­ly)
(3) Spring sal­ad on table to put into
cold red liq­uid
1) Onions — sliced (spring onions)
2) Toma­toes — sliced bite-sized
3) Let­tuce — dit­to
4) Cucum­bers — dit­to
5) a few radish­es
__________________________________
Suit­able for Sum­mer Din­ner

Cold Sum­mer Borscht was but one of many soups to remerge from Gins­berg’s twelve-gal­lon stock­pot. Read about his final batch here. Bon Apetit.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Allen Ginsberg’s “Celes­tial Home­work”: A Read­ing List for His Class “Lit­er­ary His­to­ry of the Beats”

Allen Gins­berg Reads a Poem He Wrote on LSD to William F. Buck­ley

Allen Gins­berg Reads His Famous­ly Cen­sored Beat Poem, Howl

“Expan­sive Poet­ics” by Allen Gins­berg: A Free Course from 1981

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the author of sev­en books includ­ing Dirty Sug­ar Cook­ies: Culi­nary Obser­va­tions, Ques­tion­able Taste. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Hear Theodor Adorno’s Avant-Garde Musical Compositions

Crit­i­cal the­o­rist and musi­col­o­gist Theodor Adorno was a con­trar­i­an, almost con­tra­dic­to­ry figure—a com­mit­ted Marx­ist thinker who was also a cul­tur­al elit­ist. Any­one who’s sat through a the­o­ry class will know his name (most like­ly through his sem­i­nal text Dialec­tic of Enlight­en­ment, writ­ten with Max Horkheimer). For those who don’t, Adorno was an inte­gral mem­ber of what was called the “Frank­furt School,” a group of ear­ly twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry Ger­man schol­ars and social the­o­rists who were high­ly crit­i­cal of both West­ern cap­i­tal­ism and Sovi­et com­mu­nism. Adorno’s work is wide-rang­ing, pen­e­trat­ing, and, at times, abstruse to the point of nigh-unin­tel­li­gi­bil­i­ty.

Despite Adorno’s hope for social trans­for­ma­tion, his influ­ence is (by design) pri­mar­i­ly in the aca­d­e­m­ic and cul­tur­al spheres, and his cri­tiques of pop­u­lar cul­ture and music were scathing and some­times just plain weird. He had a noto­ri­ous­ly irra­tional dis­like of jazz, for exam­ple. (His­to­ri­an Eric Hob­s­bawm said that his writ­ing con­tained “some of the stu­pid­est pages ever writ­ten about jazz.”) Adorno also dis­liked “protest music,” as you can see from the inter­view above, in which he slams the folky, hip­py stuff for its “cross-eyed trans­fix­ion with amuse­ment” that ren­ders it safe. Protest music, Adorno says, takes “the hor­ren­dous,” the Viet­nam War in this case, and makes it “some­how con­sum­able.” Maybe Dylan felt the same way when he gave up his Woody Guthrie act and start­ed writ­ing those bril­liant­ly arcane, poet­ic lyrics.

But Adorno didn’t just preach the virtues of dif­fi­cult art. He prac­ticed them. In addi­tion to cham­pi­oning the twelve-tone music of Arnold Schoen­berg, Adorno com­posed his own music, for piano and strings. The three piano pieces above are his, some­what rem­i­nis­cent of the most dis­so­nant pas­sages in Mod­est Mus­sorgsky. Per­formed by pianist Stef­fen Schleier­ma­ch­er, the pieces are titled “Langsame halbe—Immer ganz zart,” “Heftige Achtel,” and “Presto.”

A much longer, more sub­stan­tial work is Adorno’s Stud­ies for Strings in six move­ments. Move­ment one is above and move­ment two below (hear part 3, part 4, part 5, and part 6).  It’s chal­leng­ing and often quite sub­lime lis­ten­ing. The YouTu­ber who uploaded the music has seen fit to set it to a mon­tage of black-and-white images. I don’t know whether this hin­ders or helps your appre­ci­a­tion, but you may wish to leave the videos run­ning and lis­ten to each move­ment while you work on oth­er things. Or bet­ter yet, close your eyes and for­get every­thing you know, don’t know, or think you know about Theodor Adorno.

Note: You can watch a lec­ture on the Frank­furt School here. It’s part of a Yale Open course on lit­er­ary the­o­ry, which appears in our col­lec­tion of 700 Free Online Cours­es.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Nazis’ 10 Con­trol-Freak Rules for Jazz Per­form­ers: A Strange List from World War II

85,000 Clas­si­cal Music Scores (and Free MP3s) on the Web

Inter­views with Schoen­berg and Bartók

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Berlin Street Scenes Beautifully Caught on Film (1900–1914)

Some­where along the way, we’ve shown you vin­tage footage of 1906 San Fran­cis­co (before and after the dev­as­tat­ing earth­quake), 1927 Lon­don1930s Havana, and New York City cir­ca 1889–1906. Now, let’s do the time warp again and revis­it the street life of Belle Époque Berlin. Bikes, cars, trol­leys, trains — they all crammed the streets of a city mov­ing head­long into moder­ni­ty. And with a fair amount of chaos to show for it. But, even so, these were idyl­lic days. Shot between 1900 and 1914, the videos show us a more relaxed city, one unaware that World War I and decades of destruc­tion were right around the cor­ner.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free His­to­ry Cours­es from Our Col­lec­tion of 700 Free Cours­es Online

British Actors Read Poignant Poet­ry from World War I

Euro­pean Cul­tur­al His­to­ry in 91 Lec­tures (Free)

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Building Statues for Nikola Tesla and Bob Dylan: Two Kickstarter Campaigns

In the mat­ter of a month, a group called North­ern Imag­i­na­tion raised $127,000 on Kick­starter, the amount need­ed to fund the build­ing of a stat­ue ded­i­cat­ed to the inven­tor Niko­la Tes­la in Sil­i­con Val­ley. It’s a way of pay­ing trib­ute to “the per­son who used his bril­liance to advance soci­ety” by mak­ing “hun­dreds of sig­nif­i­cant and ground­break­ing inven­tions in areas of wire­less ener­gy, wire­less com­mu­ni­ca­tion, mag­net­ism, radio, x‑rays, cos­mic rays, radar, robot­ics, engine-pow­ered air­craft and much more.” As cur­rent­ly planned, the stat­ue will sit on Cal­i­for­nia Ave in Palo Alto (right in my neck of the woods). Nat­u­ral­ly, it will host a free Wi-Fi hotspot and also a time cap­sule to be opened on Jan 7, 2043.

Mean­while, halfway across the coun­try, the “Dylan by Duluth” cam­paign is hop­ing to raise $159,000 (again on Kick­starter) to build a stat­ue hon­or­ing Duluth’s favorite son, the trou­ba­dour Bob Dylan. Once com­plete, the bronze stat­ue will stand approx­i­mate­ly 12 feet 6 inch­es tall and hope­ful­ly sit some­where near High­way 61. Three days in, the still-very-young cam­paign has received $5,089 from 40 back­ers. You can help make the Dylan mon­u­ment a real­i­ty right here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Magi­cian Mar­co Tem­pest Daz­zles a TED Audi­ence with “The Elec­tric Rise and Fall of Niko­la Tes­la”

Bob Dylan and Van Mor­ri­son Sing Togeth­er in Athens, on His­toric Hill Over­look­ing the Acrop­o­lis

Bob Dylan and The Grate­ful Dead Rehearse Togeth­er in Sum­mer 1987. Lis­ten to 74 Tracks.

Two Leg­ends Togeth­er: A Young Bob Dylan Talks and Plays on The Studs Terkel Pro­gram, 1963

Buzz Aldrin and Thomas Dolby Geek Out and Sing “She Blinded Me With Science”

Buzz Aldrin is maybe the coolest ex-astro­naut alive, with the pos­si­ble excep­tion of Sto­ry Mus­grave. Both of these guys are forg­ing ahead with life at the age when less­er humans pack it in. At 77, Mus­grave has a five-year-old son and plans to go back into space soon (as a tourist); 83-year-old Aldrin is devel­op­ing a new sci-fi series based on his 1996 nov­el Encounter with Tiber. Cool, right? Just maybe don’t ask Buzz to dance to ‘80s syn­th­pop. He does have a great sense of humor, though.

Watch Aldrin duet with Thomas Dol­by on “She Blind­ed Me With Sci­ence” above. Buzz gets to shout “Sci­ence!” and bop back and forth like your grand­fa­ther rock­ing out at your wed­ding recep­tion. It’s cute. The per­for­mance hap­pened dur­ing a day­long Smith­son­ian con­fer­ence called “The Future is Here.” Aldrin was one of the four­teen fea­tured speak­ers who deliv­ered “nar­ra­tive talks that focused on both great tri­umphs and future inno­va­tions in sci­ence and tech­nol­o­gy.”

via Boing Boing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Moon Dis­as­ter That Wasn’t: Nixon’s Speech In Case Apol­lo 11 Failed to Return

Live: Watch NASA’s Cov­er­age of Aster­oid As It Buzzes By Earth

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Neil Young Busts a Music Store for Selling a Bootleg CSNY Album (1971)

Griz­zled grand­dad of rock Neil Young has railed against so-called “lossy” dig­i­tal formats—our cur­rent stan­dard of con­sumer audio—for at least a cou­ple of years now, promis­ing to replace Mp3s with his own high-end dig­i­tal ser­vice and play­er. He even ref­er­ences con­cerns about dig­i­tal music qual­i­ty on the alter­nate­ly cranky and wist­ful end­less jam open­ing track “Driftin’ Back,” from his most recent album, Psy­che­del­ic Pills.

His advo­ca­cy is admirable, giv­en the dis­mal sound of so much dig­i­tal music these days. I sup­pose it takes a fogey like Young—who remem­bers what records sound­ed like in the Gold­en Age of analog—to care about the decline of audio qual­i­ty. Giv­en Young’s dis­may over dis­pos­able dig­i­tal for­mats, one might assume he’d take a hard stance against one of their biggest dri­vers: music pira­cy. Instead, Young has gone on record say­ing

It does­n’t affect me because I look at the inter­net as the new radio. I look at the radio as gone. […] Pira­cy is the new radio. That’s how music gets around. […] That’s the radio. If you real­ly want to hear it, let’s make it avail­able, let them hear it, let them hear the 95 per­cent of it.

This posi­tion makes a cer­tain amount of sense. Mp3s, like broad­cast audio, are cheap sim­u­lacra of mas­ter recordings—useful as pro­mo­tion­al tools. Those who care deeply about sound qual­i­ty should be will­ing to pay for it in the form of loss­less dig­i­tal audio, CD, or vinyl. Lis­ten­ers nei­ther pay for tra­di­tion­al radio nor for stolen Mp3s.

That dif­fer­ence may explain why Young expressed a very dif­fer­ent view of pira­cy forty-two years ago. Let’s drift back to 1971, when Young found boot­legged vinyl copies of Dylan and CSNY albums at a record store (above). In the first few min­utes, Young mean­ders, the cam­era fol­low­ing. But skip ahead to 3:30 and watch him dis­cov­er the bootlegs and con­front the clerk, who has no idea who he is. The clerk stam­mers and stut­ters, Neil demands answers and then dra­mat­i­cal­ly walks out with the CSNY boot­leg album, forc­ing the clerk to pull him back in and call a high­er-up. Then Neil makes a case for his musi­cal prop­er­ty. (All while The Bea­t­les’ Mag­i­cal Mys­tery Tour plays in the back­ground.)

It’s a pret­ty amaz­ing exchange that shows how invest­ed young Neil Young was in man­ag­ing the prod­ucts of his labor. He’s not so young and hun­gry now, the indus­try has under­gone some seis­mic shifts, but he’s still fight­ing for con­trol over his sound. And he has good rea­son to. Psy­che­del­ic Pills is an instant clas­sic, as endear­ing as Neil in ’71. Check him out below in a live per­for­mance that year for the BBC.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Neil Young Busk­ing in Glas­gow, 1976: The Sto­ry Behind the Footage

‘The Nee­dle and the Dam­age Done’: Neil Young Plays Two Songs on The John­ny Cash Show, 1971

Free: Lis­ten to Dave Grohl’s Sound­track for New Film Cel­e­brat­ing the Days of Ana­log Record­ing

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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