mjzee Posted December 18, 2015 Report Share Posted December 18, 2015 The solemn rituals that attend classical music have long made the genre an irresistible target for mockery, most of it obvious and crass. From time to time, though, a knowing insider produces a satire of classical pretensions that approaches the sublime. The honor roll of great put-ons includes Anna Russell’s impression of a vocal recitalist in majestic decline; Gerard Hoffnung’s decimations of mid-twentieth-century British concert life; Victor Borge’s Dada take on the itinerant piano virtuoso; and, of course, Peter Schickele’s anarcho-Baroque incarnation of P.D.Q. Bach (1807-1742), who is habitually described as the last of Johann Sebastian Bach’s twenty-odd children, and also the oddest. P.D.Q. made his public début in 1965, at Town Hall; fifty years on, Schickele, adopting his familiar guise as a professor of musical pathology at the University of Southern North Dakota at Hoople, returns to the scene of the original crime. More here: http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/12/21/forgotten-son Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
fasstrack Posted December 19, 2015 Report Share Posted December 19, 2015 Should be great fun. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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