Back home, George finished his concerto. It was just as he planned—daring, razz-ma-tazz, and dazzling.
It was a musical kaleidoscope of America’s melting pot.
Rhapsody in Blue is what it was named.
from The Music in George’s Head:
George Gershwin Creates Rhapsody in Blue
written by Suzanne Slade
illustrated by Stacy Innerst
Calkins Creek, 2016
One hundred years is a long time in anyone’s book, but 1924 faded into 2024 when Baron Fenwick began his performance of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue at the Canton Symphony on November 23.
Paul Whiteman, a prominent band leader, commissioned the work in 1923 to be performed in honor of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday the next year. Whiteman wanted a concerto-like piece for an all-jazz concert, but Gershwin told Whiteman that he didn’t have enough experience, enough knowledge, or enough time to complete the work. George Gershwin was 26 years old.
Then, during his regular billiard game, Ira (Geroge’s brother) interrupted them to read from an unsigned article in the New York Tribune. It said that George was working on a jazz concerto for Whitehead’s February 12 concert. It seemed that Whitehead’s arch-rival wanted to steal the idea of an experimental concert. With that info, Whitehead convinced George to pen the piece.
We can’t know how Gershwin sounded as the soloist at his premiere at Aeolian Hall in New York City on February 12, 1924. Gershwin hadn’t even written down the solo piano sections until after the concert was over, and it was not recorded.
George Gershwin played by heart. And with heart.
Frederic D. Schwarz said that Ross Gorman, the clarinetist who played the glissando that opens the piece, meant it to be a joke for George Gershwin, but Gershwin loved it.
The rest is history, living history.
Schwarz continues in his American Heritage magazine (link above) that the glissando has become as instantly recognizable as Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
By the end of 1927, the piece had been performed by Whitehead’s orchestra over 80 times. His recording sold a million copies.
Leonard Bernstein recorded “Rhapsody in Blue” in 1959 and again in 1976.
And in 1984, 84 pianists clad in pale-blue tuxedos, fronted by a bevy of dancers in flowy light blue gowns and backed by an orchestra in white, performed a spectacular, if abridged, version of Gershwin’s iconic American music at the opening ceremonies of the Los Angeles Olympic Games. Here’s a link to find it on YouTube.
When Baron Fenwick took the bench of the grand piano on stage of the Canton Symphony last Saturday evening, he did so with exuberant enthusiasm, energy, and expertise, but no music.
Just like Gershwin, the music was in his head, too.
Fenwick delivered the masterpiece by heart and with heart. His standing ovation lasted several minutes while I hoped for an encore. But he left us wanting more.
At only 29 years old, he’s won major piano competitions, played in important concert halls, and has had a concerto dedicated to him.
While I’m not a stranger to classical music, I’m a fan and nowhere near an expert.
The day after my experience in Canton, I attended my grandson’s percussion performance where I was introduced to several avant-garde works by mostly young composers and traditional instruments performed in new ways. One performer used a bow to strum the pipes of her vibraphone.
My very talented grandson played a new-to-me instrument, the water phone. It is an uncommonly-used musical instrument invented by an American, Richard Waters, in the late 1960s. It’s an idiophone, a metal instrument that produces its sound by creating resonance either by lightly striking it or bowing it.
Inspired by kalimbas, African thumb pianos, Waters continued experimenting by adding water to the base and was satisfied with the eerie, haunting sound his instrument produced. Nowadays, the shallow base is usually filled with water which amplifies the sound, and according to Waters, “bend[s] tones and create[s] water echoes.” Here's a picture and a little more information.
My grandson bowed a water phone in a piece called “Gasoline Rainbow,” composed by Adam Silverman in 2009. After the concert, I asked my grandson how he learned to play it. “Mostly by feel,” is what he told me. He’s right, of course! The thinnish bronze rods welded to the stainless steel bowl are of different lengths but not specifically tuned to a particular scale of tones.
Listen to a demonstration here. Scroll down to “What [does] a Waterphone sound like?”
The grands and their parents are coming for Thanksgiving. I’m sure we won’t hear any waterphones, but I’m looking forward to listening to all the new piano pieces they’re learning. And maybe a preview or two from my younger granddaughter’s musical, Annie.
My older granddaughter is a violist. I’ll probably have to wait to hear her until we travel to Maryland next month.
I just started reading The Women by Kristin Hannah (St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 2024). According to the blurb, it’s more than a war story. It’s about sacrifice, commitment, idealism, and courage. More next time.
Be curious! (and listen to the song in your heart)
It was a musical kaleidoscope of America’s melting pot.
Rhapsody in Blue is what it was named.
from The Music in George’s Head:
George Gershwin Creates Rhapsody in Blue
written by Suzanne Slade
illustrated by Stacy Innerst
Calkins Creek, 2016
One hundred years is a long time in anyone’s book, but 1924 faded into 2024 when Baron Fenwick began his performance of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue at the Canton Symphony on November 23.
Paul Whiteman, a prominent band leader, commissioned the work in 1923 to be performed in honor of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday the next year. Whiteman wanted a concerto-like piece for an all-jazz concert, but Gershwin told Whiteman that he didn’t have enough experience, enough knowledge, or enough time to complete the work. George Gershwin was 26 years old.
Then, during his regular billiard game, Ira (Geroge’s brother) interrupted them to read from an unsigned article in the New York Tribune. It said that George was working on a jazz concerto for Whitehead’s February 12 concert. It seemed that Whitehead’s arch-rival wanted to steal the idea of an experimental concert. With that info, Whitehead convinced George to pen the piece.
We can’t know how Gershwin sounded as the soloist at his premiere at Aeolian Hall in New York City on February 12, 1924. Gershwin hadn’t even written down the solo piano sections until after the concert was over, and it was not recorded.
George Gershwin played by heart. And with heart.
Frederic D. Schwarz said that Ross Gorman, the clarinetist who played the glissando that opens the piece, meant it to be a joke for George Gershwin, but Gershwin loved it.
The rest is history, living history.
Schwarz continues in his American Heritage magazine (link above) that the glissando has become as instantly recognizable as Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
By the end of 1927, the piece had been performed by Whitehead’s orchestra over 80 times. His recording sold a million copies.
Leonard Bernstein recorded “Rhapsody in Blue” in 1959 and again in 1976.
And in 1984, 84 pianists clad in pale-blue tuxedos, fronted by a bevy of dancers in flowy light blue gowns and backed by an orchestra in white, performed a spectacular, if abridged, version of Gershwin’s iconic American music at the opening ceremonies of the Los Angeles Olympic Games. Here’s a link to find it on YouTube.
When Baron Fenwick took the bench of the grand piano on stage of the Canton Symphony last Saturday evening, he did so with exuberant enthusiasm, energy, and expertise, but no music.
Just like Gershwin, the music was in his head, too.
Fenwick delivered the masterpiece by heart and with heart. His standing ovation lasted several minutes while I hoped for an encore. But he left us wanting more.
At only 29 years old, he’s won major piano competitions, played in important concert halls, and has had a concerto dedicated to him.
While I’m not a stranger to classical music, I’m a fan and nowhere near an expert.
The day after my experience in Canton, I attended my grandson’s percussion performance where I was introduced to several avant-garde works by mostly young composers and traditional instruments performed in new ways. One performer used a bow to strum the pipes of her vibraphone.
My very talented grandson played a new-to-me instrument, the water phone. It is an uncommonly-used musical instrument invented by an American, Richard Waters, in the late 1960s. It’s an idiophone, a metal instrument that produces its sound by creating resonance either by lightly striking it or bowing it.
Inspired by kalimbas, African thumb pianos, Waters continued experimenting by adding water to the base and was satisfied with the eerie, haunting sound his instrument produced. Nowadays, the shallow base is usually filled with water which amplifies the sound, and according to Waters, “bend[s] tones and create[s] water echoes.” Here's a picture and a little more information.
My grandson bowed a water phone in a piece called “Gasoline Rainbow,” composed by Adam Silverman in 2009. After the concert, I asked my grandson how he learned to play it. “Mostly by feel,” is what he told me. He’s right, of course! The thinnish bronze rods welded to the stainless steel bowl are of different lengths but not specifically tuned to a particular scale of tones.
Listen to a demonstration here. Scroll down to “What [does] a Waterphone sound like?”
The grands and their parents are coming for Thanksgiving. I’m sure we won’t hear any waterphones, but I’m looking forward to listening to all the new piano pieces they’re learning. And maybe a preview or two from my younger granddaughter’s musical, Annie.
My older granddaughter is a violist. I’ll probably have to wait to hear her until we travel to Maryland next month.
I just started reading The Women by Kristin Hannah (St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 2024). According to the blurb, it’s more than a war story. It’s about sacrifice, commitment, idealism, and courage. More next time.
Be curious! (and listen to the song in your heart)
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