Friday, December 12, 2014 As this year comes to end, it suddenly dawned on me that 2014 was an Olympic year. The Sochi Olympics was a big deal, and yet now only 10 months later, they seem so far away. Indeed, the Sochi Olympics seem so far away, that I can hardly recall any of the performances. I am certain that there were many memorable performances, but none seem to come to mind. Oddly enough, the one great Winter Olympic performance that does come to my mind was not from Sochi, but from 12 years ago at Salt Lake City. You can view it yourself at
What made the performance so memorable for me is that it was not about winning a medal, it was about winning at life. And with the haunting rendition of Fields of Gold by Eva Cassidy, it was truly one of the most beautiful and memorable performances I have seen.
For all of you, may you too be able to glide through life's troubles with grace.
Friday, December 12, 2014 As this year comes to end, it suddenly dawned on me that 2014 was an Olympic year. The Sochi Olympics was a big deal, and yet now only 10 months later, they seem so far away. Indeed, the Sochi Olympics seem so far away, that I can hardly recall any of the performances. I am certain that there were many memorable performances, but none seem to come to mind. Oddly enough, the one great Winter Olympic performance that does come to my mind was not from Sochi, but from 12 years ago at Salt Lake City. You can view it yourself at
What made the performance so memorable for me is that it was not about winning a medal, it was about winning at life. And with the haunting rendition of Fields of Gold by Eva Cassidy, it was truly one of the most beautiful and memorable performances I have seen.
For all of you, may you too be able to glide through life's troubles with grace.
Monday, December 1, 2014 In 1964, my family returned to our pink house in Victorville, California, after spending two years in El Paso, Texas, and another two years in Glasgow, Montana. Soon after our return to Victorville, my Dad shipped out for a two year stay in Germany, leaving my Mom in Victorville with five kids. That year back in Victorville was a particularly hard time. Money was short and social adjustments were difficult. This time of year, Christmastime, was particularly difficult. Mom was very stoic about all that was going on. Aside from once threatening to move us all to Bakersfield to pick cotton, she managed to scrape enough money together to get us through. However, what I remember so well from the time, was Mom playing Charles Brown's Christmas Album over and over again. I especially remember this tune:
Thinking back on the Christmastime of a half century ago, I can now surmise that Mom may not have been as composed as I may have thought. I suppose, upon reflection, even our vaunted parents had their frailties ... just as today, we, as parents, have ours.
If any of you have a favorite Song of the Season, please feel free to share it with us and tell us why.
Anita Cerquetti, a gifted Italian soprano who rose to instant fame in 1958 when she was called on to substitute for the mythic and sometimes mystifying Maria Callas in one of opera’s most dramatic episodes, and three years later surprised people again by ending her own career, died on Saturday in Perugia, Italy. She was 83.
Her death was confirmed by Alfredo Sorichetti, a conductor who helps oversee an annual singing competition and academy named in Miss Cerquetti’s honor, in her hometown, Montecosaro. She had been hospitalized for several days after a heart attack, he said.
The drama that brought Miss Cerquetti worldwide attention began on Jan. 2, 1958, a Thursday, the opening night of Bellini’s “Norma” at the Teatro dell’Opera in Rome. After Callas, the glamorous American-born prima donna in the lead role, received a few derogatory whistles amid much applause for the first aria, “Casta Diva,” she began to appear tense. She never emerged for the second act, locking herself in her dressing room.
Boos, hoots and foot-stomping shook the cheap seats. In the royal box, the president of Italy, Giovanni Gronchi, and his wife waited nearly an hour before leaving, and the show never resumed. Explanations varied: Callas’s husband said she had a throat infection; there were assertions that she had celebrated too enthusiastically on New Year’s Eve; the Italian press suggested she had not been pleased with the audience response.
Callas retreated to her hotel, insisting she was ill, and stayed there for five days. She could hear chants in the street below: “Down with Callas!”
By Saturday, there was a new chorus: “Long live Italian women!”
Those were the words that met Miss Cerquetti, a rising star who happened to be performing the same role in Naples, when she stepped in for Callas at the Teatro dell’Opera for the first time on that Saturday night. The audience loved her, roaring at her version of “Casta Diva.”
Callas apologized for her absences and offered to return to the stage the following week — to sing two performances free. The manager of the opera house declined, and the Italian government, which subsidized the opera house, ordered her replaced.
The role now belonged to Miss Cerquetti, who had a powerful, dramatic voice that audiences adored.
Miss Cerquetti, who was just 26, had already impressed opera lovers in the United States, making her debut with the Chicago Opera in 1955, singing the role of Amelia in Verdi’s “Un Ballo in Maschera.” But while replacing Callas thrust her to a new level, it also took a toll.
For a time, Miss Cerquetti pulled off an unlikely twin billing — alternating standing in for Callas in Rome and performing the role in Naples, more than 100 miles away. In mid-January, suffering from what a psychiatrist called “nervous exhaustion,” she backed out of Bellini’s “The Pirate,” at the Palermo Opera. A psychiatrist, citing her heavy workload, prescribed sedatives and 20 days of rest.
She went on to noted performances at La Scala in Milan and elsewhere, and on Italian radio broadcasts, but just three years after those tumultuous days at Teatro dell’Opera, she abruptly retired and all but disappeared.
This time, it was Miss Cerquetti who faced questions. Had her voice failed? Did she have neurological issues? Heart problems? She blamed fatigue.
“I was very tired because I couldn’t sleep at night and during the day I sang,” Miss Cerquetti said in a 1996 interview with Stefan Zucker, president of the Bel Canto Society, an organization devoted to the history of opera singing. “It got to the point where I had absolute need of physical rest. Above all, I needed to sleep. This was from stress. But, thank God, my vocal cords remained intact and have remained so until today. This is the truth.”
She added: “So many things were said, understandably, because I had left my career at its most beautiful moment. It’s only natural that people asked why. And since everyone needed a reason, each one invented his own.”
Miss Cerquetti was born on April 13, 1931, in Montecosaro. Her mother was a schoolteacher, and her father was a farmer who became her manager early in her career. She studied violin before switching to singing in her late teens. In 1951, she won a competition in Spoleto, and she made her professional debut in Florence at 21. She graduated from the Conservatorio di Musica di Perugia.
Critics praised her natural talent but saw room for refinement, pointing out what at times was noticeably heavy breathing.
“Miss Cerquetti’s recorded performance of arias by Verdi, Bellini, Spontini and Puccini leaves no doubt that her voice is a remarkable instrument,” John Briggs wrote in The New York Times in 1957 in a review of “Operatic Recital by Anita Cerquetti,” one of a small number of commercial recordings she made. “Whether it is being used with skill is another question.”
She is survived by a daughter, Daniela. Her husband, the baritone Edo Ferretti, died several years ago. Callas died of a heart attack in 1977 at 53.
In a moving moment in Werner Schroeter’s 1997 film about opera singing,“Love’s Debris,” Miss Cerquetti is shown listening to herself in her glory years — a recording of one of her 1958 performances in “Norma.”
“I received many offers to return,” she told Mr. Zucker. “There were moments when I almost accepted. But then I thought, what’s the point? I’ve already found my peace, my serenity. To return under the gun? Basta! And so I closed the door.”
Anita Cerquetti, a gifted Italian soprano who rose to instant fame in 1958 when she was called on to substitute for the mythic and sometimes mystifying Maria Callas in one of opera’s most dramatic episodes, and three years later surprised people again by ending her own career, died on Saturday in Perugia, Italy. She was 83.
Her death was confirmed by Alfredo Sorichetti, a conductor who helps oversee an annual singing competition and academy named in Miss Cerquetti’s honor, in her hometown, Montecosaro. She had been hospitalized for several days after a heart attack, he said.
The drama that brought Miss Cerquetti worldwide attention began on Jan. 2, 1958, a Thursday, the opening night of Bellini’s “Norma” at the Teatro dell’Opera in Rome. After Callas, the glamorous American-born prima donna in the lead role, received a few derogatory whistles amid much applause for the first aria, “Casta Diva,” she began to appear tense. She never emerged for the second act, locking herself in her dressing room.
Boos, hoots and foot-stomping shook the cheap seats. In the royal box, the president of Italy, Giovanni Gronchi, and his wife waited nearly an hour before leaving, and the show never resumed. Explanations varied: Callas’s husband said she had a throat infection; there were assertions that she had celebrated too enthusiastically on New Year’s Eve; the Italian press suggested she had not been pleased with the audience response.
Callas retreated to her hotel, insisting she was ill, and stayed there for five days. She could hear chants in the street below: “Down with Callas!”
By Saturday, there was a new chorus: “Long live Italian women!”
Those were the words that met Miss Cerquetti, a rising star who happened to be performing the same role in Naples, when she stepped in for Callas at the Teatro dell’Opera for the first time on that Saturday night. The audience loved her, roaring at her version of “Casta Diva.”
Callas apologized for her absences and offered to return to the stage the following week — to sing two performances free. The manager of the opera house declined, and the Italian government, which subsidized the opera house, ordered her replaced.
The role now belonged to Miss Cerquetti, who had a powerful, dramatic voice that audiences adored.
Miss Cerquetti, who was just 26, had already impressed opera lovers in the United States, making her debut with the Chicago Opera in 1955, singing the role of Amelia in Verdi’s “Un Ballo in Maschera.” But while replacing Callas thrust her to a new level, it also took a toll.
For a time, Miss Cerquetti pulled off an unlikely twin billing — alternating standing in for Callas in Rome and performing the role in Naples, more than 100 miles away. In mid-January, suffering from what a psychiatrist called “nervous exhaustion,” she backed out of Bellini’s “The Pirate,” at the Palermo Opera. A psychiatrist, citing her heavy workload, prescribed sedatives and 20 days of rest.
She went on to noted performances at La Scala in Milan and elsewhere, and on Italian radio broadcasts, but just three years after those tumultuous days at Teatro dell’Opera, she abruptly retired and all but disappeared.
This time, it was Miss Cerquetti who faced questions. Had her voice failed? Did she have neurological issues? Heart problems? She blamed fatigue.
“I was very tired because I couldn’t sleep at night and during the day I sang,” Miss Cerquetti said in a 1996 interview with Stefan Zucker, president of the Bel Canto Society, an organization devoted to the history of opera singing. “It got to the point where I had absolute need of physical rest. Above all, I needed to sleep. This was from stress. But, thank God, my vocal cords remained intact and have remained so until today. This is the truth.”
She added: “So many things were said, understandably, because I had left my career at its most beautiful moment. It’s only natural that people asked why. And since everyone needed a reason, each one invented his own.”
Miss Cerquetti was born on April 13, 1931, in Montecosaro. Her mother was a schoolteacher, and her father was a farmer who became her manager early in her career. She studied violin before switching to singing in her late teens. In 1951, she won a competition in Spoleto, and she made her professional debut in Florence at 21. She graduated from the Conservatorio di Musica di Perugia.
Critics praised her natural talent but saw room for refinement, pointing out what at times was noticeably heavy breathing.
“Miss Cerquetti’s recorded performance of arias by Verdi, Bellini, Spontini and Puccini leaves no doubt that her voice is a remarkable instrument,” John Briggs wrote in The New York Times in 1957 in a review of “Operatic Recital by Anita Cerquetti,” one of a small number of commercial recordings she made. “Whether it is being used with skill is another question.”
She is survived by a daughter, Daniela. Her husband, the baritone Edo Ferretti, died several years ago. Callas died of a heart attack in 1977 at 53.
In a moving moment in Werner Schroeter’s 1997 film about opera singing,“Love’s Debris,” Miss Cerquetti is shown listening to herself in her glory years — a recording of one of her 1958 performances in “Norma.”
“I received many offers to return,” she told Mr. Zucker. “There were moments when I almost accepted. But then I thought, what’s the point? I’ve already found my peace, my serenity. To return under the gun? Basta! And so I closed the door.”
The work week is winding down and it will soon be time for me to be quiet for awhile. However, before doing so, I was drawn both yesterday and today to what I think is one of the greatest vocal performances of all-time, Leann Rimes' a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace. You can view it at
Yesterday, while viewing the beautiful Leann Rimes video, I came across another even more soul wrenching rendition of the song by Rhema Marvanne. You can view it at
After viewing these videos, and after reading the story of Rhema Marvanne, I, for one, became a little more appreciative of this life. Who knows, perhaps, others will find some measure of appreciation in them as well.
Have a Blessed and Safe Labor Day Weekend everyone.
The work week is winding down and it will soon be time for me to be quiet for awhile. However, before doing so, I was drawn both yesterday and today to what I think is one of the greatest vocal performances of all-time, Leann Rimes' a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace. You can view it at
Yesterday, while viewing the beautiful Leann Rimes video, I came across another even more soul wrenching rendition of the song by Rhema Marvanne. You can view it at
After viewing these videos, and after reading the story of Rhema Marvanne, I, for one, became a little more appreciative of this life. Who knows, perhaps, others will find some measure of appreciation in them as well.
Have a Blessed and Safe Labor Day Weekend everyone.
The work week is winding down and it will soon be time for me to be quiet for awhile. However, before doing so, I was drawn both yesterday and today to what I think is one of the greatest vocal performances of all-time, Leann Rimes' a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace. You can view it at
Yesterday, while viewing the beautiful Leann Rimes video, I came across another even more soul wrenching rendition of the song by Rhema Marvanne. You can view it at
After viewing these videos, and after reading the story of Rhema Marvanne, I, for one, became a little more appreciative of this life. Who knows, perhaps, others will find some measure of appreciation in them as well.
Have a Blessed and Safe Labor Day Weekend everyone.
Received news of the passing of Gerry Goffin, the influential songwriter best known for his collaboration with his then wife Carole King on so many hits during the 1960s.
Over the years, I have enjoyed a great many of the songs penned by Goffin and King. Even listening to them today, they bring a smile to my face. One of my all time favorites was Oh No Not My Baby by Maxine Brown. Listen to one of the great songs of the sixties:
However, I am particularly grateful for Goffin's post-divorce efforts in crafting a song that really introduced me to one of the truly great talents of the last quarter century. Perhaps, you too will remember Saving All My Love For You and remember witnessing the birth of a star.
Received news of the passing of Gerry Goffin, the influential songwriter best known for his collaboration with his then wife Carole King on so many hits during the 1960s.
Over the years, I have enjoyed a great many of the songs penned by Goffin and King. Even listening to them today, they bring a smile to my face. One of my all time favorites was Oh No Not My Baby by Maxine Brown. Listen to one of the great songs of the sixties:
However, I am particularly grateful for Goffin's post-divorce efforts in crafting a song that really introduced me to one of the truly great talents of the last quarter century. Perhaps, you too will remember Saving All My Love For You and remember witnessing the birth of a star.
Received news of the passing of Gerry Goffin, the influential songwriter best known for his collaboration with his then wife Carole King on so many hits during the 1960s.
Over the years, I have enjoyed a great many of the songs penned by Goffin and King. Even listening to them today, they bring a smile to my face. One of my all time favorites was Oh No Not My Baby by Maxine Brown. Listen to one of the great songs of the sixties:
However, I am particularly grateful for Goffin's post-divorce efforts in crafting a song that really introduced me to one of the truly great talents of the last quarter century. Perhaps, you too will remember Saving All My Love For You and remember witnessing the birth of a star.
Because of the passing of my friend, -- my Soul Brother -- , Greg Domingue, Class of 1972, it has been a rather somber week for me, so this morning I found myself listening to KLOVE on the way to work and the song Good Morning by Mandisa came on the air. Something about this song just made me feel happy. Perhaps it will make you feel happy too.
Because of the passing of my friend, -- my Soul Brother -- , Greg Domingue, Class of 1972, it has been a rather somber week for me, so this morning I found myself listening to KLOVE on the way to work and the song Good Morning by Mandisa came on the air. Something about this song just made me feel happy. Perhaps it will make you feel happy too.
I do not know how to convey what Mandela meant to the people of the Union of South Africa (U.S.A.) as its first Black President, but perhaps we can learn from Brenda Fassie and begin to express a bit of the love she had for Madiba for our own Black President.
Brenda Fassie (3 November 1964 – 9 May 2004) was an anti-apartheid South African Afropop singer. Her bold stage antics earned a reputation for "outrageousness". Affectionately called Mabrr by her fans, she was sometimes described as the "Queen of African Pop".
Fassie was born in Langa, Cape Town, as the youngest of nine children. She was named after the American singer Brenda Lee. Her father died when she was two, and with the help of her mother, a pianist, she started earning money by singing for tourists.
In 1981, at the age of 16, she left Cape Town for Soweto, Johannesburg, to seek her fortune as a singer. Fassie first joined the group Joy and later became the lead singer for a township music group called Brenda and the Big Dudes. She had a son, Bongani, in 1985 by a fellow Big Dudes musician. She married Nhlanhla Mbambo in 1989 but divorced in 1991. Around this time she became addicted to cocaine and her career suffered.
With very outspoken views and frequent visits to the poorer townships of Johannesburg, as well as songs about life in the townships, she enjoyed tremendous popularity. Known best for her songs "Weekend Special" and "Too Late for Mama", she was dubbed "The Madonna of the Townships" by Time in 2001.
In 1995, she was discovered in a hotel with the body of her lesbian lover, Poppie Sihlahla, who had died of an apparent overdose. Fassie underwent rehabilitation and got her career back on track. However, she still had drug problems and returned to drug rehabilitation clinics about 30 times in her life.
From 1996 she released several solo albums, including Now Is the Time, Memeza (1997), and Nomakanjani?. Most of her albums became multi-platinum sellers in South Africa; Memeza was the best-selling album in South Africa in 1998.
On the morning of April 26, 2004, Fassie collapsed at her home in Buccleuch, Gauteng, and was admitted into a hospital in Sunninghill. The press were told that she had suffered cardiac arrest, but later reported that she had slipped into a coma brought on by an asthma attack. The post-mortem report revealed that she had taken an overdose of cocaine on the night of her collapse, and this was the cause of her coma. She stopped breathing and suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen. Fassie was visited in the hospital by Nelson Mandela, Winnie Mandela, and Thabo Mbeki, and her condition was front-page news in South African papers. She died aged 39 on 9 May 9, 2004 in the hospital without returning to consciousness after her life support machines were turned off. According to the South African Sunday Times and the managers of her music company, the post-mortem report also showed that she was HIV-positive. Her manager, Peter Snyman, denied this aspect of the report.
Her family, including her long term partner, were at her side when she died in 2004.
Brenda Fassie was voted 17th in the Top 100 Great South Africans.
Her son Bongani 'Bongz' Fassie performed on the soundtrack to the 2005 Academy Award-winning movie Tsotsi. He dedicated his song "I'm So Sorry" to his mother.
In March 2006 a life-size bronze sculpture of Fassie by artist Angus Taylor was installed outside Bassline, a music venue in Johannesburg.
Most of Fassie's records were issued by the EMI-owned CCP Records.
1989: Brenda
1990: Black President
1994: Brenda Fassie
1995: Mama
1996: Now Is the Time
1997: Memeza
1997: Paparazzi
2000: Thola Amadlozi
2001: Brenda: The Greatest Hits
2003: Mali
2003: The Remix Collection
2004: Gimme Some Volume
Fassie also contributed to Mandoza's album Tornado (2002), Miriam Makeba's album Sangoma (1988), and Harry Belafonte's anti-apartheid album Paradise in Gazankulu (1988). She sang for the soundtrack for Yizo, Yizo (2004).
