#671 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Saturday May 27)
Good morning,
MUSIC
If you’ve been a reader of the Musings from 2020 or 2021, you would know of my love for Stephen Sondheim. Together with Leonard Bernstein, he defines the greatest of late 20th century musical theatre.
Last week, Andrea and I saw a magisterial presentation of Sweeney Todd, one of Sondheim’s best. Each time I’ve seen it, I’ve focused on different aspects of the story. This one was particularly humorous, yet it put class inequality in London front-and-center. Here are a few of the best tunes, from various different productions:
No Place Like London in a 1982 version: https://www.google.com/search?q=no+place+like+london+sweeney+todd&oq=no+place+like+london+sweeney&aqs=chrome.0.0i355i512j46i512j69i57j0i22i30l2j0i390i650l2.5893j0j9&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:eb56b4f7,vid:KN5koLaaJOY
Epiphany (“they all deserve to die”), with Johnny Depp in the 2008 movie version (which was meh): https://www.google.com/search?q=sweeney+todd+they+all+deserve&oq=sweeney+todd+they+all+deserve&aqs=chrome..69i57.9292j0j4&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:d9bcb663,vid:3YlLeoEv89I
Johanna, a great quartet in harmony in a 2014 version:
POETRY
Everyone Sang
By: Siegfried Sassoon
Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark-green fields; on – on – and out of sight.
Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted;
And beauty came like the setting sun;
My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
Drifted away … O, but Everyone
Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.
A Modest Love
By: Sir Edward Dyer
The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall,
The fly her spleen, the little sparks their heat;
The slender hairs cast shadows, through but small,
And bees have wings, although they be not great;
Seas have their source, and so have shallow springs;
And love is love, in beggars as in kings.
Where rivers smoothest run, deep are the fords;
The dial stirs, yet none perceives it move;
The firmest faith is in the fewest words;
The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love;
True hearts have eyes and ears, no tongues to speak;
The hear and see, and sigh, and then they break.
HOUSEKEEPING
I’m not saying I’m never going to write another Saturday Musing but, well, don’t expect it going forward. Much as I love music and poetry, I think dialing down the Musings to a more manageable five days a week is the way to go. I’ll continue to intersperse music and poetry as the mood arises.
Have a great weekend,
Glenn