The chamber music concert Sunday morning at Tanglewood exceeded our expectations. It was wonderful, running from 10 to 12:30 with a seemingly endless procession of brilliant young musicians, including one vocalist. Two of the performances were especially noteworthy. A piano piece by Schubert was written for four hands. So, course, it was played by two pianists. But, incredibly, each one of them had four hands, for a total of eight. Also, the last selection was an octet by Beethoven. But instead of having eight separate musicians performing, the piece was played by a single octopus. Extraordinary.
There are so many paintings out there by Marc Chagall it’s hard to choose one. But this one got my goat. I mean vote.
Chagall was born on this date in 1887 in Vitebsk, Russia. In case you’re not sure where Vitebsk is — it’s just about 10-15 miles south of Haradok. Chagall was one of nine kids and his dad worked in a herring factory. I’m guessing the dad bathed when he got home from work on at least nine occasions.
This is from the Writer’s Almanac: “Chagall is known for bright and complex colors, and his fantastical images from Russian-Jewish folklore and his childhood: ghosts, livestock, weddings, fiddlers, scenes of his village Vitebsk, a couple floating in the sky, and fish.”
Phil and he hit it off very nicely. Phil can schmooze with the best of them. Happy birthday, MC!
By far, the funniest call to the bullpen I’ve ever seen . . . actually, hold on, it’s the only funny one I’ve ever seen, was by Ozzie Guillen, White Sox manager in the 2005 World Series, calling for his closer, Bobby Jenks. Jenks was a big guy — tall and, more to the point, round. Normally, a manager signals for a reliever by raising or pointing to his right hand for a righty or left for a lefty. But for Jenks Guillen opened his arms in a big circle to indicate “girth.” He wasn’t trying to be funny: It was a tense moment in an important game. But it was hysterical.
Sadly, Jenks died in Sintra, Portugal last Friday at the young age of 44 from cancer. He moved to Portugal last year, to be near his wife’s family.
Jenks got the last out in Chicago’s WS win over Houston in 2005. His catcher A.J. Pierzynsky compared him to Paul Bunyan and said he will never forget jumping into his arms after that last out. He was their dominant reliever through the playoffs that year and ranks second in saves in franchise history with 173. He is survived by his wife Eleni and six kids, all of whom signaled for him many times, with open arms.
Rest in peace, Bobby.
At 27A in the puzzle today, the clue was: One might read “FASTCAR” and the answer was VANITY PLATE. Rex took constructor Daniel Raymon to task for using such a boring one as an example. He offered a few, including:
And:
I didn’t get the last one until it was explained as the start to “the dingo ate my baby.” (See, also, the frame.)
I chimed in with two more, viz.,
When Cleveland fell behind Golden State in the 2017 NBA Finals three games to one, things looked bleak. A comeback from such a deficit had never occurred in NBA history. But the Cavs did just that. And Cleveland fan Kory Siverd came up with this great (IMO) vanity plate:
Also, Vermont had (still has?) a plate with the motto SEE VERMONT across the bottom. And someone, fearing too many tourists perhaps, had his or her plate read DONT.
I loved one feature of yesterday’s puzzle but it’s gonna take me a while to get there. It was a Sunday, so the grid was 21×21 instead of the daily 15×15. The center contained a keyhole with a slot containing four squares. You had to complete the puzzle to get the four clues for the squares and then solve those clues to get the word in the slot that would open the “escape room” door. (The name of the puzzle was “Escape Room.”)
I couldn’t get it. I filled in the grid, but failed to figure out the keyhole letters. The clue for the first was the answer at 39D: END OF THE ROAD. You had to locate the answer RODEO DRIVE elsewhere in the grid as “the road.” Then the letter E at the end was the first letter in the keyhole. (I wrongly went instead with D: the last letter of “the road.”)
The clue for the second letter was the answer at 109A which was the kids’ game FOURSQUARE. You were supposed to go the square with the #4 in it in the puzzle and use that letter (X) as the second keyhole letter.
The clue for the third letter was my favorite. It was the answer at 93A which was UNDER THE SEA. You were supposed to use the letter C (for SEA, phonetically), and find the letter in the grid that was “under the C.” And, get this — in the entire grid (containing 441 squares) the constructors made sure there was only one letter C. And the letter “under” that C was an I so the third keyhole letter was I.
The clue for the fourth letter was the answer at 31A which was DOESNT HAVE A CLUE. You were supposed to note that there was no clue for the answer at 76A. There was only a dash. And the crosses for 76A worked out to TEE, so the fourth letter in the keyhole was T. E-X-I-T was the “escape room” solution.
As I noted, I was most impressed by the limiting of the entire grid to one C. (Lewis did some research and found there are normally around 8.)
We spotted SIMU LIU in the puzzle, clued with “Star of Marvel’s first film with an Asian-led cast.”
Simu was born in China, but raised in Canada and is a Canadian citizen. He was a business student and started off as an accountant. He lost his job after nine months but has been doing much better in show biz, kinahora, even making it into the NYTXW already. He’s 36 and engaged to a marketing manager Allison Hsu. Here they are together. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess any kids they have won’t be ugly.
How could I not fall for a poem that starts “The refrigerator is the highest honor . . . ?” I’d sooner let a blond Danish drill sergeant get away. It’s by Paul Hostovsky and is called “Poem on the Fridge.”
The refrigerator is the highest honor
a poem can aspire to. The ultimate
publication. As close to food as words
can come. And this refrigerator poem
is honored to be here beneath its own
refrigerator magnet, which feels like a medal
pinned to its lapel. Stop here a moment
and listen to the poem humming to itself,
like a refrigerator itself, the song in its head
full of crisp, perishable notes that wither in air,
the words to the song lined up here like
a dispensary full of indispensable details:
a jar of corrugated green pickles, an array
of headless shrimp, fiery maraschino cherries,
a fruit salad, veggie platter, assortments of
cheeses and chilled French wines, a pink
bottle of amoxicillin: the poem is infectious.
It’s having a party. The music, the revelry,
is seeping through this white door.
Michelle AKERS, 59, is one of the greatest female soccer players who ever lived. Of course, I never heard of her. Her clue in the puzzle noted she scored 107 international goals. She starred in the 1991 and 1999 Women’s World Cup and 1996 Olympics victories by the U.S. At the 1991 World Cup, she won the Golden Shoe as the top scorer, with ten goals.
This is what Wikipedia says about her personal life: From 1990 to 1994, she was married and was known as Michelle Akers-Stahl. Later she married again (2003–2007) and had a son in Orlando, Florida. She has had several horses since 1996.
Wait. What?
So the other night, my wife told me to take out the garbage. I said, “I already took out the garbage.” She said, “Well, go keep an eye on it.” (Rodney D.)
Posted by my niece Tamar on Facebook: We find all sorts of cool rocks on our farm all the time, but these are perhaps the most beautiful. Can anyone tell me what they are? Sonoma County, California.
I commented: You got it right — they’re rocks.
Alistair Hall of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) posted (with photo): Not sure if this is a dull or not but it certainly fails to interest those I talk to about it. Yet it is beginning to consume me. Why do musicians particularly those playing a stringed instrument appear to strain their facial muscles when playing a high note? I get why vocalists might but surely there’s no additional effort for anyone else. I’ve even tried to play air guitar the opposite way (straining upon lower frequencies and relaxing on a higher note) and it’s nigh on impossible.
Gareth Rizzla White: As a guitar player I can confirm that it is impossible to play some things without presenting a grimace. It’s the emotion.
Also, if you are soloing then you generally ‘sing’ the notes in your mind as you play, and your fizzog matches the notes. Hitting a big bend on a ‘pinch’ harmonic will see me scowling like a wolf on a full moon!
Alistair: I suspect the second paragraph has more to do with it (usually) than the former. Also really enjoying the word ‘fizzog’. That’s worth a facial reaction in itself.
Doreen Marsh: Ooh, “fizzog,” a word I haven’t used since the (big) kids were little.
[Fizzog: a person’s face or expression. British; informal.]
Alain Davis: You don’t really get music do you?
Fleur Davies: “But you don’t really care for music, do you?” could have been a more apt reply.
Fleur: Hallelujah.
Alistair: Indeed I do. Nevertheless the relationship between high notes and grimace is a legitimate question. I understand that an emotional climax may well be be paired with the top of a scale, a key change, or a crescendo of some kind. However, there are equally as many pained musical moments sitting on deeper, quieter pitches which would not be mirrored by many instrumentalists.
Andy Williamson: It’s called “guitar face.” Musicians have been talking about/laughing about/recognising/taking the piss bout it for years.
Kriss McHenry: It’s called Soul.
Glen Andreozzi: Not really a grimace. More of a face in a state of pure joy from being in the moment and creating a pleasing sound from the instrument he loves to play. Creating music is an emotional experience.
Mike Alexander: Because we are apes. We naturally express emotions through our facial muscles. This is not specific to guitarists – pianists, violinists, cellists all do it. I guess it’s different for brass and woodwind players, since more of their facial muscles are required in actually playing the notes. But look at their eyes and eyebrows and you will see the same effect in action. For that matter, why do singers close their eyes so much?
Paul Barnard: Not always true. I give you….. Mark Knopfler: No expression at all.
Andy Bound: I pull a face for no reason as a matter of course. I keep sticking my bottom lip out poutily all the time. Help me.
Joe Giggs: Turn of the screw. Blues hurts. That note could take you anywhere and it can bring relief or anguish. You could be half way to the note you intended to reach but need to push a little harder, with every inch of you wishing the string wouldn’t break, but if it did you’d be right there with it.
Alastair: Thank you: very poetic.
See you tomorrow.
The Wellington Files 