Yegods. Read the Times. Trust me, you'll know which article. I feel quite faint.
Later edit, under the rubric of "Maury's really good at finding the dark cloud behind the silver lining": I have to admit it's been fun having to hunt for Met broadcast recordings. And maybe am a tiny bit preemptively nostalgic about the days (i.e. now) when it's a big deal that I have some of the stuff I do. I remember finding the Corelli/Farrell Gioconda at the used record store in Denton, Texas and feeling like I'd really scored. I drove back to Dallas with the adrenaline rush of transporting contraband. (Had to be the opera. Dallas does not so much provoke reactions of happiness, and I say this as a loyal Texan, loyal despite everything.) So while I'm delirious with joy thinking about some of the 40's and 50's bounty perhaps soon to be grasped like low-hanging fruit, I'm also...well, I don't want to sound like one of those old school homosexuals who's nostalgic for the days when you had to know where the bars were, but yeah, I'll miss the hunt a little.
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3 comments:
Jerome Hines in what, I wonder?
It's true there are still things to pine for. Maybe there's a Borkh FrOSch out there with better conducting and without post-mortem Modl. (Actually I wouldn't mind a copy of the extant one, for that matter.) And stuff like that.
That used record store in Denton--how funny is it that I'm sure I know which one you're talking about? They have insane stuff half the time.
Yeah, makes absolutely no sense. I got that Gioconda and the Ponselle Traviata, which I've never seen anywhere else.
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