Stravinsky's Neoclassicism

October 26, 2006 at 9:32 AM

But before I could play it, I had to chase him down across the top of a fast moving passenger train, being careful not to zig when it was zagging. We jumped across several cars, a caboose, and crawled down a ladder. Suddenly, I was in the air, like a pebble down the side of a steep ravine, lightly skipping to the beat of six, then five, then three. Tumbling, we fought over the measure of time. He had a knife.

He used it to carve a slice of cake, which he served on antique china, in an attic full of cobwebs and chests of clothing. The faded dresses were lovely and old-fashioned, but dare I try them on? Self-consciously, I picked a spider out of the frosting and declined. He insisted. Were they swallows or were they bats, circling above? I thought about being sick, churning as though balanced face-down on a twisted swing. It was a deranged fancy, indeed. Why, then, was I compelled to indulge?

From Emily Grossman
Posted on October 26, 2006 at 9:35 AM

*Inspired by Symphony in Three Movements

From Tom Holzman
Posted on October 26, 2006 at 3:23 PM

On second thought, I think I will stick to Bach, Mozart and Beethoven!

From Jim W. Miller
Posted on October 26, 2006 at 5:45 PM

Why? Could be Stockholm syndrome.

From Linda Lerskier
Posted on October 26, 2006 at 7:35 PM

Was is carrot cake again?

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