maren

Yes, I think it was the 69th amendment ...

I'm not trying to be contrary, David, believe me! It's just that, for me, whenever I DO "boogie" I'm totally listening to EVERY note! All the notes are telling me how to move! It's listening to the notes that moves me out of self-consciousness and wondering what I look like dancing (although those LOOKING might say that's a BAD thing! guess it means I'm a musician, not a dancer).

Dirk Flentrop, Builder of Organs, Dies at 93 By Craig R. Whitney, New York Times, 12/14/03 Dirk A. Flentrop, a Dutch organ builder who influenced a generation of American counterparts in making pipe organs that play and sound like the classical Baroque instruments of Bach's time, died at his home in Santpoort, the Netherlands, on Nov. 30, his company, Flentrop Orgelbouw, announced. He was 93. Mr. Flentrop headed the company, which is based in Zaandam, from 1940 to 1976. He took over from his father, Hendrik Flentrop, an organist who founded the company in 1903. Inspired by what his father had learned in restoring 17th- and 18th-century European instruments, Mr. Flentrop, who also played the organ, built hundreds of new instruments in the Netherlands and elsewhere using historical construction techniques — mechanical connections between keys and pipes, bright and clear tones, elegant wooden cases to focus sound. His influence spread to the United States in 1958, thanks to his friend E. Power Biggs, the concert organist, whom Mr. Flentrop had guided on a tour of European Baroque organs in 1954. Most American pipe organs in the mid-20th century were being made with remote-control electropneumatic playing action and pipes that often imitated the sounds of the orchestra — unresponsive and heavy sounding, to Mr. Biggs's ears. He ordered an organ from Mr. Flentrop and in 1958 got permission to install it in Adolphus Busch Hall at Harvard University. The Flentrop organ in Busch Hall, still frequently heard in concerts, became, in the words of the organ historian Jonathan Ambrosino, "the beacon of a new age." Mr. Biggs's recordings on it, and his fervent advocacy of designing pipe organs along classical lines, brought scores of orders for Mr. Flentrop over the next 20 years from American churches and universities. Among the places where he installed notable instruments are St. Mark's Episcopal Cathedral in Seattle, the conservatory at Oberlin College in Oberlin, Ohio, and the Duke University chapel in Durham, N.C. His instruments helped inspire such American builders as Charles B. Fisk, John Brombaugh and Fritz Noack and their followers to return to traditional methods. The Flentrop company, now directed by Cees van Oostenbrugge, observed its 100th anniversary this year. Mr. Flentrop is survived by his wife, Cynthia Flentrop-Turner; a daughter, Agaath Leeuwerik-Flentrop; and three grandchildren. Dirk A. Flentrop [A.G.O. Organ Library]

ORIGAMI...

Happy birthday, couw!!! (and Jim, again!)

A weekend away from the computer, and look what I miss! HAPPY BIRTHDAY JIM! Many happy returns! And thanks for all your posts, past present & future!

Happy Birthdays! and more cake...

Hey Alan, you beat me to the punch (line?)! I've only heard it played by Steve Bernstein

Cute kids, Chris, Conn and Jacman! (And AB from another thread)! Cute AS kids, Berigan, Christiern, Vibes and Conn!

What's with the Bonneys? Red Anne Bonney "Passion is a big part of your life, which makes sense for a pirate. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!" But, as I said on the LAST pirate thread: "I don't wanna be a pirate!"

S dnyom rozhdyeniya! Ya (My) pozdravlyayu (pozdravlyayem) tebya! Zhelayu tyebye uspeha! Zhelayu tyebye zdorovya. Zhelayu priyatno provesti vremya! Vsego nailuchshego! Govoryat chto russkiy yazyk slozhny. Ya pravilno eto napisala?

Must've read the signs in German: Lied = song:

For 121, not bad at all! Kidding, kidding!!!! What Big Al And Jazz said! Now, about the glowing globe, what's up with that??? I can tell the guy on the left side of the photo is near a naked bulb, but what are you by? That was an odd table lamp -- just a flat base with socket for bulb and huge globe shade (the kind that usually hangs from a school cafeteria ceiling). This was backstage at a gig in Maryland, near Silver Spring, where the indie-label-head/promoter lives -- he had brought a photographer and we were goofing around with the objects at hand.

“Harlem: A Dream Deferred” What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun Or fester like a sore— And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over— Like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?

Here's me, second from the right, about 7 or 8 years ago, with my husbands () (nah, bandmates -- gotta keep that stuff outta the workplace):

am I a day late??? Hope you have a WEEK-long celebration, Ghost, and many happy returns! [edit to insert a week's worth of party hats and whistles]

Dan over Heaney, any time! Please, Christiern.....would you like to be confused with CHRIS "Heinous" Heaney?? ...the name is *DEEP* DEEP DEEPly sorry. Maybe we CAN "all just get along"!

I just haven't read as much of Lowell (though I remember quoting "calmed by Miltown, we lay on mother's bed" on the BNBB) -- what I have read, I love. And clearly he spawned (well, not as literally as Ted Berrigan and Alice Notley "spawned" Anselm Berrigan!) some significant poetic offspring. I tend to steer clear of rankings like "greater than" in poetry, music, painting -- just to leave lots of space for being receptive to the great inventions of those who aren't "as great as..." For some reason, this is making me think of Berryman's poem about Elizabeth Bishop: "since Emily Dickinson, only Miss Moore is adroiter" which is very sweet -- doesn't strike me as an oppressive kind of ranking -- because "adroit" isn't the only thing a poet can be -- it's a precise, loving criticism (criticism = "appreciation, consideration, evaluation" not "putdown").

Clementine -- and Ubu -- I don't have enough time to look at more than one poetry thread! So will throw in my "St. Mark's" two cents right here (and hold the "German" thoughts for later)... thanks for the Ted Berrigan poem. Here's all I could find online by Susie Timmons (winner of "the First Annual Ted Berrigan book prize" --winning meant she got her book published -- it's called "Locked from the Outside" -- but below is a more recent poem): THE FREAKY WAYS [by Susie Timmons] Row, wicked sailor row, go freezing by your eyes are space one day my heart passed the knot into a smooth version in just one day you and your haunts were on the subject of the freaky ways days and violent nights Scent of pain and faded rules April birds fell through May skies my heart passed a versatile transmission fog channel when I first touched the ground they told me leave they were skipping through time lots of red guys moving through the grass but there was more Tension than that I believe in a scare with a memory its been delightful panoramic vision spanning the yard delightful, you pass the store with your immortal steps keeping your own descent here comes my train here I go, I’ve got to go, like you, I’ll jump down, I meet someone to believe see you next June in a memory picnic, silly to have passionate memory see you next week I believe in a plan with an alley It got so big it covered the valley panoramic Black and white antique Tamarisk tree, why vegetation Dust What are you waiting for I hear a chorus of sand angles, you know triangles live inside of no day so somehow its sad to watch the standing away smoke aggravation could happen to anyone exception, sweeping I’m just like everyone I want to feel the rush of power beneath my wheels but when I slow I see a ship with sails competence pulls the stars from the sky west to east I counted the motions always a surprise, you’re the insider inside her send a letter to Memphis, let reality read it process prove it.

I love John Berryman, Conn. Heard (saw) him read in the fall of 1970. Love Auden, too, Alexander. Funny thing -- my boyfriend at that time (freshman year of college, 1970) had just bought a big Auden volume on the way to the Berryman reading -- Berryman signed it "All my love, Wystan per John Berryman"! Do you ever mis-attribute lines you remember? For years the phrase: "come diminish me and map my way" (an exhortation to a love interest) reverberated in my head as being Berryman -- but it's actually Auden.

And thanks a million.

me too! me three! (or is it 103 by now? haven't checked in for a few days and haven't read this whole thread yet.)

So sorry for you all, Berigan. I've been through a number of cat losses... 3 of old age/failing health (besides diabetes, thyroid condition can make old cats very thirsty, lose weight fast and go downhill rapidly)... Spooky (RIP 1990), Zoomy (RIP 1998), and Stripey (RIP 4/11/03). (Yeah, we like names ending in "y"). Shadow was all black and only about 7 years old when he died very suddenly and mysteriously -- probably a seizure, said the vet. He had been one of an orphaned litter living in Washington Square Park (!) -- mom must have met an untimely end. My son's 3rd grade teacher brought these 4-week-old kittens into her classroom -- when I went to pick Benny ("y" again!) up from school, his friends were chattering about how much he wanted one of these surprise kittens -- he was holding the kitten and looking up at me, couldn't even get the words out! Opened his mouth and was speechless -- like he was afraid to ask and be told no -- we had Zoomy and Stripey at home, but seeing my son's pleading eyes touched the same "softy" gene in me. So we brought this tiny thing home, with a can of kitten formula provided by the teacher, fed it with a dropper, bought more kitten formula (which I'd never even known existed), turned a fur hat of mine inside out and let the kitten nestle in there while I fed him, kept all the lights on for weeks because he was so tiny and black I was terrified someone would step on him in the dark. Name changed over the first few days from "Midnight" to "Coffee" to "Shadow." Looked like a little bear or bushbaby or marten for a few weeks. He thrived and was a beautiful, sweet cat. Went through the most alarming puberty of the 5 male pet cats I've had in my lifetime! Came home one day and he was yowling like a cougar -- very deep-throated sound -- my son was playing SWAT team cop, saying "people, we have a situation here" -- I actually called the vet immediately to see if any disease could make a cat crazy ("distemper" sounded like it might, but no, the vet said distemper makes a cat weak and listless) -- turned out to be a plain old hormone surge. It was a total shock when he died -- but vet said a lot of things could have gone wrong in his fetal/neonatal development, being a son of a street cat. Long story -- I guess the point is just to share the feeling of attachment you can have with your cat(s).

THAT'S the name I was trying to think of! Duluth IS lovely. Weizen, what's your verdict on Fitger's brewery? I've never sampled the wares -- I've just been impressed by the ancient copper kettle: