Stacy Horn

I was exploring YouTube not long ago, looking for videos of the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, and I found this one which also has an audio recording of Vaughan Williams talking about editing an English hymnal (he was agnostic).

Oh look! Vaughan Williams is holding a cat! Another reason to love Vaughan Williams. Here you can see Vaughan Williams sitting on steps. More links below.

[Video removed because the link no longer works.]

This is Leonard Bernstein giving a speech I quoted from in my book.

Composer Morten Lauridsen talking about poetry and choral composition. Thank you, Classical Chops.

Composer Nico Muhly also talking about setting poems to music. Thank you again, Classical Chops.

I was looking for a video of Frank Damrosch, a conductor I wrote about, and instead found this one of his brother Walter Damrosch, who was also a conductor. I’m including it just because it’s so interesting. It was filmed in 1929 and he’s talking about hearing a recording of his orchestra for the first time. He also talks about “seeing” music, and they show the frequencies of the notes/chords he plays (it was filmed in the General Electric Laboratories).

I’ve never really gotten the appeal of shark week, although to be honest, I haven’t given it a chance in I don’t know how many years. I tried it in the beginning and nothing I saw was scary or interesting. Nothing to compare to this account of the USS Indianapolis that I just read on the Smithsonian’s blog Past Imperfect. Mother of God. Oh, I missed Sharknado! I’m thinking I missed the best thing to ever come out of Shark Week? Wait a minute, that was the SyFy Channel and had nothing to do with Shark Week. Oh well, please let me know if I’m missing anything!

Pretty in pink, isn’t New York, pretty in pink, isn’t New York?

I was watching the movie Rebecca last night and I was struck for the millionth time by the answer to Joan Fontain’s question “What was Rebecca really like?” And Farley answers, “I suppose she was the most beautiful creature I ever saw.” Even as a child, before I ever heard the word feminism, I remember thinking, what the hell kind of answer is that?? She didn’t ask what she looked like. That answer doesn’t tell you anything about Rebecca and what she was like. It enraged me. It still bugs me.

I took this picture on my way back from Phoenicia the other day. It was around sunset and New York looked like a city of gold. Between the lighting and the soft focus of shooting through a bus window, my photograph looks more like a painting. A Hopper-esque painting. Or maybe more Maxfield Parrish. But look at this, it’s a photograph! There are no special effects, no post-production manipulation besides lightening the exposure a little. I want to make a poster out of it.

Update: I still hate, hate, hate self-promotion. But radio interviews are the one exception. Those are almost always fun, and the one I had yesterday with host Mike Cuthbert was especially great. One of the first things he said to me was, “My wife and I read your book and we can’t figure out how you’re still single!” Cuthbert was also once an associate conductor, so he knew what I was writing about intimately. (Must look up Gian Carlo Menotti’s The Unicorn, the Gorgon, and the Manticore, something he recommended.)

I was early for my interview though, so I went across the street to kill time in Central Park by the reservoir. And I saw a turtle! I have always loved turtles. Which reminds me, a very kind fellow author at Algonquin Books, Caroline Leavitt, gave me some self-promotion advice and one thing she suggested was write a piece for the New York Times Modern Love column. So I read the one she had written, titled, “My Touchstone and a Heart of Gold.”

It begins with, “I never intended to get a tortoise.” It is so charming and also so deep and moving I immediately choked. I can’t compete with that, I give up. (I’ll get over it.) But you should read her column. And who can resist a turtle? Except I don’t know the difference between a turtle and a tortoise or which one this is. But I fell in love with him.

No, no, don’t swim away little guy! Okay, goodbye. I will never forget you.

I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank Violet Snow and her husband Sparrow. A few weeks ago Violet emailed me to suggest I come up to Phoenicia during the Phoenicia International Festival of the Voice to sell books. She then got okays from the organizers, accepted delivery of boxes of books, got a table and chair for me, picked a place to set up, met me at the bus with the boxes, table and chair, and then kept me company and was basically responsible for most of my sales. Sparrow, meanwhile, handed out postcards about my book on the days of the festival when I wasn’t there.

Violet is a journalist, and she’s working on several projects, but the one I explored the most is News of My Ancestors, which is based on her genealogy adventures. There are a lot of us who are quite rabid about genealogy (me included) but it takes tremendous skill to get someone’s attention away from their own hunt to read about yours, and to get people who think they’re not interested in the subject at all to give it a try.

Violet Snow sucks you in and makes you care, and she does it like that. In, like a sentence or two. Just go to News of My Ancestors and read one post. That’s all it will take and you will see what I mean.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you Violet and Sparrow. I had a wonderful time. You and Phoenicia and your neighbors are GREAT. I took this picture while we were walking to set up. I spent the day surrounded my mountains. I want to live here, at least part of the time. One of the people who bought books rode by on her bike on her way to swim in the river (sobbing with envy) and she bought books on her way back. I want that life.