88man wrote:
Should I have the Novelette score monogrammed on a silk bathrobe for you by Valentines Day?
Yes, please...
88man wrote:
Monica, I had to listen again, and there's no doubt that you have two sensational winners here!
Perhaps this can be stated of any music that inspires one at the deepest level: If you feel that the music just vividly transported you to another place, then you have not only captured the soul of the music, but have indeed shown the listener a clear picture of how this place looks through the power of one's performance. On most days, we are faced peering down a blank keyboard for answers, but on those rare and special moments when the portal is open for a short time, seize the unique opportunity to be transported to that special place... You must have pressed the "Record" button during one of these moments here... This is also my view toward improvisation.
And the sound is not "okay." It's excellent for living room acoustics! Don't change a thing as you've found the sweet spot.
George
Thank you, George. It's great when we can lose ourselves in music, isn't it? I'm practicing Granados' Goyescas No. 2 again, which I still love dearly, except I love it so much that I get 'lost' in the music all the time. I get to the end but can hardly remember what I played. That's probably not a good thing; I need to stay more focused and work on my technique.
musical-md wrote:
pianolady wrote:
to me the Novelette is deeper and just so delicious and romantic and seductive and I wish I could rub it onto my whole body and wear it!

What's wrong, Eddy?
Actually, it seems I'm not the only one who has these kinds of thoughts. In part of a book I'm reading now....
One of the best sources of income for professional musicians was teaching, especially of aristocracy’s daughters. These were fertile grounds—in more ways than one. Private music lessons were not only lucrative; they also offered certain opportunities against which the only defense was parental vigilance. In a satriric report that reveals the pervasiveness of concerns about this danger, a 1754 article in the Connoisseur announced the invention of a “female thermometer” for measuring “the exact temperature of a lady’s passions.” The device, created by Mr. Ayscough of Ludgate Hill, consisted of a glass tube filled with a mixture of distilled extracts of lady’s love, maidenhair, and “wax of virgin bees.” It could supposedly detect the full range of feminine response, from “inviolable modesty” to “abandoned impudence,” and was remarkable accurate, claimed the author, when used at the theater and the opera.