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The Cremona Violin

Part First

Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door.
A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind
Swirled through the trees, and scattered leaves before
Her on the clean, flagged path. The sky behind
The distant town was black, and sharp defined
Against it shone the lines of roofs and towers,
Superimposed and flat like cardboard flowers.

A pasted city on a purple ground,
Picked out with luminous paint, it seemed. The cloud
Split on an edge of lightning, and a sound
Of rivers full and rushing boomed through bowed,
Tossed, hissing branches. Thunder rumbled loud
Beyond the town fast swallowing into gloom.
Frau Altgelt closed the windows of each room.

She bustled round to shake by constant moving
The strange, weird atmosphere. She stirred the fire,

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poem by Amy Lowell
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Imagination

Imagine the concert

The concert did not cost a dime
But every soul was there- from the beginning of time.
It was the biggest concert the heavens had ever seen.
The greatest dancers and singers that were ever known.
On the largest television screen it was shown.

You had the crooners, the swooners,
the rockers, the boppers, and the opera singers
All gathered together for one big show.
In heaven- this is the way to go.

It started off with the “tappers” coming on to the stage
All well known in the archives of fame.
First Bill “Bo jangles” Robinson with Fred Astaire in back.
Then Jean Kelly. Ginger Rodgers,
and Gregory Hines picking up the slack.

Then came the female singers who were all

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poem by Louis Rams
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Christmas Carol Singalong

(Every Christmas, I go to the Christmas Carol Singalong at the Royal Albert Hall, hosted by Jonathan Cohen, and I wanted to capture the atmosphere of the event.)

I love going to the Royal Albert Hall for the Christmas Carol Sing-along.
It attracts a really large audience – some five thousand people strong.
Before the concert begins, there’s excited anticipation in the air,
And, there are plenty of cheerful, smiling faces, everywhere.

On stage, there’s a large orchestra and a smartly clad choir,
And there’s the promise of singing to your heart’s desire.
There’s well known Christmas songs old and new,
And all your favourite Christmas carols mixed in to.

Sometimes, just the orchestra get to do their thing,
And sometimes, just the choir stand up and sing.
There’s also a guest singer who sings a few songs,
But, with the majority of songs, we get to sing along.

On the pacier numbers, the choir move to the beat,
Clapping their hands together and shuffling their feet.
There’s usually a piano solo which requires nifty fingers.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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A concert is a concert is a concert is a concert. An album is an album is an album is an album. Musically, both have nothing in common.

quote by Klaus Schulze
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Little Pierre's Song

In a humble room in London sat a pretty little boy,
By the bedside of his sick mother her only joy,
Who was called Little Pierre, and who's father was dead;
There he sat poor boy, hungry and crying for bread.

There he sat humming a little song, which was his own,
But to the world it was entirely unknown,
And as he sang the song he felt heartsick,
But he resolved to get Madame Malibran to sing his song in public

Then he paused for a moment and clasped his hands,
And running to the looking-glass before it he stands,
Then he smoothed his yellow curls without delay,
And from a tin box takes a scroll of paper worn and grey.

Then he gave one fond eager glance at his mother,
Trying hard brave boy his grief to smother,
As he gazed on the bed where she lay,
But he resolved to see Madame Malibran without delay.

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poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Wild & Loose

What time is it!?
Hangin' by the backstage door
Decked out like a queen
Your body's sayin' 21
But your face says 17
My intuition tells me
That U're waitin' 4 the band
Before U get your hopes up
One thing understand (Oh, hey)
CHORUS:
Wild and loose, that's how it's got 2 be
Cuz that's the only kind of dame that appeals 2 me
Wild and loose, the only life I know
Just havin' one big party from show 2 show
Talkin' trash 2 Jimmy Jam
"Tell us where the party's at"
We don't care who U came with
We'll take care of that
Just meet us at the Gotel
Room 602, ooh

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song performed by Prince
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In Pursuit of the Poetic Soul of Ryan Adams

In Pursuit of the Poetic Soul of Ryan Adams

By Uriah Lee Hamilton

Last day of summer, football Saturday afternoon. A Warm breeze was pushing me toward Ann Arbor like a happy autumn leaf in pursuit of the beautiful poetic soul of Ryan Adams. Lovely charming mood all the way playing Easy Tiger and Demolition and feeling like the universe was kind and smiling.
Exit off 94 West onto State Street and all excited to make my way to Liberty Street and the heart of the College town I love. Kids were milling around everywhere in their gold and blue, gleeful and happy that Michigan is now playing 500 football after a discouraging start. Parking spaces across the street from Michigan Theater in the parking structure are all taken, I have to drive to the roof and still wait for a football fan to leave.
Me and my friend Cassandra start walking around and dig everything and everyone we see. Ann Arbor brings out your gentle Jack Kerouac nature, the part of you that wants to praise everything for it’s sad but beautiful, integral purpose to this existence.
We enter an Eastern clothing and folk art store that is positively charming and enlightening. I can’t remember the name of the store. Perhaps, it is called the Enchanted Sarong. It almost felt like George Harrison was there with us, beautiful carved statues of Buddha and Krishna and Ganesha were everywhere. The sales lady was friendly and helpful and said sweetly, “we’re Om friendly” as we asked about carved symbols for the breath-word Om. The serene incense Nag Champa drifted through the room but it was now time to leave and make our way to the Ryan Adams concert at Michigan Theater.
I purchased my tickets the very minute they went on sale and prayed I had front row despite my tickets saying double A. No Such luck, but I was still happy to be in row 27. As I was waiting for the show to begin, I saw my concert friend Jeremy and got his attention. He looked as happy and as excited as myself and said he had spent a fortune at some cool record store. Jeremy then handed me a beautiful soundboard copy of Ryan Adams at the Gem Theater in downtown Detroit June 20th 2007. Man, how I’ve been longing for that show! I then gave Jeremy a copy of Ryan’s punk rock band the Finger.
Now the lights go out and the music begins. Ryan Opens with Goodnight Rose and closes with Goodnight Hollywood Boulevard. Everything in-between is just magical. The first auspicious sign was that Ryan came out playing guitar! ! In June, he only sang, he didn’t play any instruments, some injury sidelined him. The June Show as a result was more subtle, almost like MTV Unplugged. Subtle but amazing. Last night was more rocking and adventurous with reworked extended arrangements, ala the Grateful Dead. In particular was a long and lovely version of Off Broadway from Easy Tiger. At the completion of Off Broadway, I shouted, “That was gorgeous! ” Of course, I may have added an expletive, all in the interest of ecstatic joy for music.
Ryan told a story during the show about running into a girl on her way to the concert that didn’t recognize him because he dresses like a plumber. My friend after the show said she thought she saw Ryan Adams on the street near the theater. I asked, “Really? ” She said, “I saw someone that looked like a plumber.” I can say, I didn’t see Ryan on the streets anywhere in Ann Arbor yesterday, but I have been known to miss a plumber or two in my day.
The first two songs in the encore made the whole show for me. Ryan came out by himself with an acoustic guitar and sang Call Me On Your Way Back Home. Toward the end of the song, Ryan played harmonica and I screamed like a schoolgirl, pretty much the way I do whenever Bobby Dylan plays harmonica! And if that wasn’t enough to make the end of summer completely magical, Ryan then sat down at the piano and sang Sylvia Plath: Oh my God, the point of tears! I’ve waited six years to hear him sing that song live from the Album Gold. As I told my friend, that was the song that sealed the deal making Ryan Adams my modern hero! If you want to get my attention and loyalty, sing about one of the tragic poets I love.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Bull Session With The big Daddy

Well are we on?
Yeah well were kinda on
We just introduce earl leaf so
Earl tree
Hi fig
Food
You get my cheese sandwich?
Gimme
Uh huh they had ham
Did you get a malt?
Didnt bring any malts
Whatd you get us?
A burger I mean cheese heres cheese
Oh its mine
Did you order one?
No Im kidding
Whatd you get me?
Mike Im gonna take a bite pretty quick
Oh thank you
I wouldve rather had that

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song performed by Beach Boys
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Essay on Psychiatrists

I. Invocation

It‘s crazy to think one could describe them—
Calling on reason, fantasy, memory, eves and ears—
As though they were all alike any more

Than sweeps, opticians, poets or masseurs.
Moreover, they are for more than one reason
Difficult to speak of seriously and freely,

And I have never (even this is difficult to say
Plainly, without foolishness or irony)
Consulted one for professional help, though it happens

Many or most of my friends have—and that,
Perhaps, is why it seems urgent to try to speak
Sensibly about them, about the psychiatrists.

II. Some Terms

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poem by Robert Pinsky
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Now, I was the Summer Concert guy. I played every Summer concert there was.

quote by John Sebastian
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