The Full Wiki

George Antheil: Wikis

  
  

Note: Many of our articles have direct quotes from sources you can cite, within the Wikipedia article! This article doesn't yet, but we're working on it! See more info or our list of citable articles.

Encyclopedia

Updated live from Wikipedia, last check: June 01, 2012 17:26 UTC (39 seconds ago)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

George Antheil

George Antheil (July 8, 1900, Trenton, New Jersey – February 12, 1959, New York City) was an American avant-garde composer, pianist, author and inventor. A self-described "Bad Boy of Music", his modernist compositions amazed and appalled listeners in Europe and the US during the 1920s with its cacophonous celebration of mechanical devices. Returning permanently to the US in the 1930s, he turned to writing film-scores in Hollywood and his various compositions for the concert hall, the ballet and films became more tonal. A man of wide interests, Antheil researched female endocrinology, wrote a mystery novel and newspaper advice and music columns, and with the actress Hedy Lamarr patented a frequency-hopping torpedo guidance system.

Contents

Early life

Antheil was born Georg Carl Johann Antheil and grew up in a family of German immigrants in Trenton, New Jersey.[1] His father owned a local shoe store in Trenton.[2][3] Antheil was raised bilingually, writing music, prose, and poetry from an early age, and never formally graduated from high school or college.[3] According to Antheil's autobiography "The Bad Boy of music", he was "so crazy about music", that his mother sent him to the countryside where no pianos were available. Undeterred, George simply arranged for a local music store to deliver a piano.[4] His somewhat unreliable memoir mythologized his origins as a futurist, and emphasized his upbringing near a noisy machine shop and an ominous prison.[2][5] George's younger brother was Henry W. Antheil, Jr., a diplomatic courier who was killed over the Baltic Sea by the Soviets on June 14, 1940.

Antheil started studying the piano at the age of six, and in 1916, traveled regularly to Philadelphia to study under Constantine von Sternberg, a former pupil of Franz Liszt.[3] From Sternberg he received formal composition training in the European tradition, but his trip to the city exposed him to new art, including Dadaism.[6] In 1919, he began to work with the more progressive Ernest Bloch in New York.[3][6][7] Initially Bloch had been skeptical and had rejected him describing Antheil's compositions as "empty" and "pretentious"; however, the teacher was won over by Antheil's enthusiasm and energy, and helped him financially as he attempted to complete an aborted first symphony.[3][8] Antheil's trips to New York also permitted him to meet important figures of the modernist movement including the musicians Leo Ornstein and Paul Rosenfeld, the painter John Marin, photographer Alfred Stieglitz and the editor of the "The Little Review" Margaret Anderson.[6]

Jane Heap and Margaret Anderson, 1921

At age 19, Antheil was invited to spend the weekend with Anderson and a group of friends; he stayed six months, and the group, who included Georgette Leblanc, former companion of Maurice Maeterlinck, were to become influential in Antheil's career. Anderson described Antheil as short with an oddly-shaped nose, who played "a compelling mechanical music", and used "the piano exclusively as an instrument of percussion, making it sound like a xylophone or a cymballo." A workaholic, during this period he worked on songs, a piano concerto and a work that came to be known as "the Mechanisms".[9]

Around this time, von Sternberg introduced Antheil to his patron of the next two decades: Mary Louise Curtis Bok, later the founder of the Curtis Institute of Music.[9] Assured by von Sternberg of Antheil's genius and good character, Bok gave him a monthly stipend of $150, and arranged for him to study at the Philadelphia Settlement Music School. Though she came to disapprove of his behavior and his work, for the next twenty years she continued to respond favorably to his constant begging letters.[8][9] Though her financial support was vital to his career, Antheil's autobiography barely acknowledged her, and failed to recognize the length and extent of her contribution to his career.[10]

Antheil continued his piano studies,[8] and the study of modernist compositions such as those by Igor Stravinsky and members of the Les Six group of French composers. In 1921, he wrote his first in a series of technology-based works, the solo piano Second Sonata, "The Airplane". Other works in the group included the Sonata Sauvage (1922–3) and subsequently Third Sonata, "Death of Machines" (1923), "Mechanisms" (ca 1923), both composed in Europe.[11] He also worked on his first symphony, managing to attract Leopold Stokowski to premiere it. However, before the performance could take place, he left for Europe to pursue his career, in retrospect dimming his chances for success in his native country.[12]

Berlin and Paris

On May 30, 1922, Antheil sailed for Europe to make his name as "a new ultra-modern pianist composer" and a "futurist terrible."[13][14] He had engaged Leo Ornstein's manager, and opened his European career with a concert at Wigmore Hall. The concert featured works by Debussy and Stravinsky, as well as his own compositions.[13]

Igor Stravinsky

He spent a year in Berlin, planning to work with Artur Schnabel, and gave concerts in Budapest, Vienna and at the Donaueschingen Festival. As he had desired, he achieved notoriety, but often had to pay the concert expenses out of his own pocket. His financial situation was not helped by Mrs. Bok's reduction of his stipend by 50 percent, though she often responded to requests to fund specific aspects his concerts.[13] He met Boski Markus, a Hungarian and the niece of the Austrian playwright Arthur Schnitzler who became his companion and whom he married in 1925.[15][16]

In the fall of 1922, Antheil took advantage of a chance meeting to introduce himself to his idol Stravinsky in Berlin. They established a warm intimacy and the more established composer encouraged Antheil to move to Paris.[17][18] He went as far as arranging a concert to launch Antheil's career in the French capital, but the younger man failed to show up, preferring to travel to Poland with Markus.[19] The couple finally arrived in Paris in June 1923, in time to attend the premiere of Stravinsky's ballet "Les Noces", but the relationship with Stravinsky did not survive for long: Stravinsky cut the younger man dead, having discovered that Antheil had boasted that Stravinsky admired his work. The breach devastated Antheil, and was not ultimately repaired until 1941, when Stravinsky sent the family tickets to a concert he was giving in Hollywood.[2][18]

Despite the inauspicious beginning, Antheil found Paris, at the time a center of musical and artistic innovation, to be a "green tender morning" compared to the "black night" of Berlin.[20] The couple lived in a one bedroom apartment above Sylvia Beach's bookshop Shakespeare and Company.[16][21] Beach described him "as fellow with bangs, a squished nose and a big mouth with a grin in it. A regular American high school boy."[22] She was very supportive, and introduced Antheil to her circle of friends and customers including Eric Satie, Ezra Pound, James Joyce, Virgil Thompson and Ernest Hemingway. Joyce and Pound were soon talking of an opera collaboration.[23] Pound, in particular, was to become an extravagant supporter and promoter of Antheil and his work, comparing him variously to Stravinsky and James Cagney, and describing him as breaking down music to its "musical atom". Pound introduced Antheil to Jean Cocteau who in turn helped launch Antheil into the musical salons of Paris, and commissioned him to write three violin sonatas for his companion, Olga Rudge. In 1924 Pound published "Antheil and the Treatise on Harmony", as part of his campaign to boost Antheil's reputation. The book may have done Antheil more harm that good, and the composer was to distance himself from it in his memoir.[24][25][26] Natalie Barney helped produce some original works, including the First String Quartet in 1926.[27]

Antheil was asked to make his Paris debut at the opening of the Ballets Suédois, an important Paris social event. He programmed several recent compositions, including the "Airplane Sonata", the "Sonata Sauvage" and "Mechanism". Halfway through his performance a riot broke out, much to Antheil's delight. According to Antheil "People were fighting in the aisles, yelling, clapping, hooting! Pandenonium!... the police entered, and any number of surrealists, society personages, and people of all descriptions were arrested...Paris hadn't had such a good time since the premiere of Stravinsky's 'Sacre du Printemps.'[28] The riot was filmed and may in fact have been engineered as the Marcel L'Herbier movie L'Inhumaine needed a riot scene set in a concert hall. In the audience were Erik Satie, Darius Milhaud, Man Ray, Pablo Picasso, Jean Cocteau, Picabia; Antheil was delighted when Satie and Milhaud praised his music.[25][28]

12, Rue de l'Odéon, Antheil's home in Paris

Reactions to his first performances were cool at best. His technique was loud, brazen, and percussive. Critics wrote that he hit the piano rather than played it, and indeed he often injured himself by doing so. As part of his "bad boy" behavior, Antheil provocatively pulled a revolver from his jacket and laid it on the piano.[19]

Antheil’s best-known composition is Ballet Mécanique. The "ballet" was originally conceived to be accompanied by a film by experimental filmmakers Fernand Léger and Dudley Murphy,[29] though the nature of the collaboration is mysterious.[30] In the event, the first productions of Antheil's work in 1925 and 1926 did not include the film, which turned out to be half as long as the score.[29] Antheil described his "first major work" as "scored for countless numbers of player pianos. All percussive. Like machines. All efficiency. No LOVE. Written without sympathy. Written cold as an army operates. Revolutionary as nothing has been revolutionary."[31] Antheil's original conception was scored for 16 specially synchronized player pianos, two grand pianos, electronic bells, xylophones, bass drums, a siren and three airplane propellers, but difficulties with the synchronization resulted in a rewrite for a single pianola and multiple human pianists.[32] The piece consisted of periods of music and silence interludes set against the roar of the airplane propellers.[33] Antheil described as "by far my most radical work... It is the rhythm of machinery, presented as beautifully as an artist knows how."[34] The Léger-Murphy film and Antheil's score were finally performed together at the Museum of Modern Art in 1935.[29]

Antheil assiduously promoted the work, and even engineered his supposed "disappearance" while on a visit to Africa so as to get media attention for a preview concert.[35] The official première in 1926 was sponsored by an American patroness who at the end of the concert was tossed in a blanket by three baronesses and a duke.[1] The work enraged some of the concert-goers whose objections were drowned out by the cacophonous music,[27] while others vocally supported the work, and the concert ended with a riot in the streets.[36] The following year, Antheil rented New York's Carnegie Hall in order to present an entire concert devoted to his works including the American debut of "Ballet Mécanique" in a scaled-down version. He commissioned elaborate backdrops of skyscrapers and machines, and engaged an African American orchestra to premiere his "Jazz Symphony".[29][37] The concert started well, but according to the concert's promoter and producer when the wind machine was turned on "all hell, in a minor way, broke loose." During the gale, audience members clutched their programs and their hats, one "tied a handkerchief to his cane and waved it wildly in the air in a sign of surrender." Much to the amusement of the audience, the untested siren failed to sound on cue, despite frantic cranking and reached its climax only after the end of the performance, as the audience were clapping and leaving the hall.[38] American critics were hostile, calling the concert "a bitter disappointment" and dismissing the "Ballet Mécanique" as "boring, artless, and naive" and Antheil's hoped-for riots failed to materialize. The failure of the Ballet affected him deeply and he never fully recovered his reputation during his lifetime,[39] though his interest in the mechanical was emulated by other prominent composers such as Arthur Honneger, Serge Prokofiev and Erik Satie.[40] A modified version of the work, for percussion, four pianos, and a recording of an airplane motor, was made in 1954.[1]

In the late 1920s, Antheil moved to Germany, where he worked as the assistant musical director of the Berlin Stadttheater, wrote music for the ballet and theatre, and in 1930 premiered his first opera "Transatlantic".[29][41] This work, which involved American politics and gangsters, was a success at the Frankfurt Opera.[1] In 1933, the rise of the Nazis made Antheil's avant-garde music unwelcome in Germany, and at the height of the Depression, he returned to the US and settled in New York. He reentered American life with enthusiasm, organizing concerts, working on committees with Aaron Copland and Wallingford Riegger, and writing piano, ballet and film scores as well as an opera "Helen Retires" about Helen of Troy; the latter proved a flop. His music had moved away from more extreme aspects of modernism, and more tonal, neo-romantic aspects were by now discernible in his work.[1][41][42]

Hollywood

Antheil went to Hollywood in 1936 and became a sought-after film composer, writing more than thirty scores for directors as Cecil B. DeMille and Nicholas Ray,[1][7] including "The Scoundrel" (1935) and "The Plainsman" (1936).[26] The Antheils' only child, a son, was born in 1937.[43] However, Antheil found the industry hostile to modern music, complaining that it was a "closed proposition", and describing most background scores as "unmitigated tripe". He became increasingly dependent on more independent producers such as Ben Hecht to give him work, such as "Angels Over Broadway" (1940) and "Specter of the Rose" (1946).[44] He also wrote the score for the 1950 film "In a Lonely Place" that starred Humphrey Bogart.[45] Antheil was confident in his ability of his music to save a weak film. "If I say so myself I've saved a couple of sure flops," he said.[45]

Besides scores writing for movies, he continued to compose other music, including music for the ballet[46] and six symphonies; his later works were in a more romantic style and influenced by Prokofiev and Shostakovich, as well as American music including jazz.[1][26][45][47] Works such as "Serenade No. 1", "Piano Sonata no. 4", "Songs of Experience" and "Eight Fragments from Shelley", written in 1948 showed a self-described desire "to disassociate myself from the passé modern schools of the last half-century, and to create a music for myself and those around me which has no fear of developed melody, real development itself, tonality, or other understandable forms."[43] His 1953 opera, "Volpone", was premiered in New York in 1953 to mixed reviews,[45] while a visit to Spain in the 1950s influenced some of his last works, including the film score for The Pride and the Passion from 1957.[43] He also accepted a commission from the CBS Television network to compose a theme for their 1957-1966 newsreel-documentary series "The Twentieth Century", narrated by Walter Cronkite.

Other interests

Apart from music, Antheil had many other pursuits. In 1930, and as "Stacey Bishop", he wrote a murder mystery called Death in the Dark with a character based on Ezra Pound.[1][26] He was the film music reporter and critic for the magazine Modern Music from 1936 to 1940, writing columns considered lively and thoughtful, noting the comings and goings of musicians and composers during an era when the industry was flirting with more "modern" scores for films. He was disappointed however, "Hollywood, after a grand splurge with new composers and new ideas, has settled back into its old grind of producing easy and sure-fire scores."[44]

Hedy Lamarr

Antheil wrote a nationally syndicated newspaper relationship advice column, as well as regular columns in magazines such as Esquire and Coronet. He considered himself an expert on female endocrinology, and a series of articles about how to determine the availability of women based on glandular effects on their appearance, with titles such as "The Glandbook for the Questing Male".[1][48] Antheil's interest in this area brought him into contact with the actress Hedy Lamarr, who sought his advice about how she might enhance her upper torso. He suggested glandular extracts, but their conversation then moved on to torpedoes. Lamarr had fled her Austrian munitions-making husband, and coming to the US had become fiercely pro-American. Together they conceived and patented a frequency-hopping torpedo guidance system: Lamarr contributed the knowledge of torpedo control gained from her husband and Antheil a method of controlling the spread spectrum sequences using a player-piano mechanism similar to those used in the "Ballet Méchanique".[48][49] Despite the initial enthusiasm of the U.S. Navy, the invention received little attention at first; and the importance of Antheil and Lamarr's discovery was only acknowledged in the 1990s.[48]

During the Second World War he participated in the "Hollywood Anti-Nazi League for the Defense of American Democracy" with Oscar Hammerstein and others, putting on exhibits of artworks banned in Nazi Germany such as those by Käthe Kollwitz.[41] He also published a book of war predictions, entitled The Shape of the War to Come.[46]

In 1945 he also published his autobiography Bad Boy of Music, which became a bestseller.[43]

Later life

Antheil died of a heart attack in Manhattan, New York. [50] His legacy included two accomplished students, Henry Brant and Benjamin Lees.

Selected works

Opera

Orchestral

  • Ballet Mécanique (1923–25, revised 1952–53)
  • Capital of the World Suite (ca. 1955)
  • Concerto for Chamber Orchestra (1932)
  • Decatur at Algiers (1943)
  • Hot-time Dance (1948)
  • Jazz Symphony (1925, revised 1955)
  • McKonkey's Ferry (1948)
  • Piano Concerto No. 1 (1922)
  • Piano Concerto No. 2 (1926)
  • Serenade for Strings No. 1
  • Symphony for 5 Instruments (1922–23, second version 1923)
  • Symphony No. 1 "Zingareska" (1920–22, rev. 1923)
  • Symphony No. 2 (1931–38, rev. 1943)
  • Symphony No. 3 "American" (1936–39, rev. 1946)
  • Symphony No. 4 "1942" (1942)
  • Symphony No. 5 "Tragic" (1945–46, withdrawn)
  • Symphony No. 5 "Joyous" (1947–48)
  • Symphony No. 6 "After Delacroix" (1947–48)
  • Tom Sawyer - California Overture (1949)
  • Violin Concerto (1946)

Chamber/Instrumental

  • Piano Sonata No. 1
  • Piano Sonata No. 2
  • Piano Sonata No. 3 (1947)
  • Piano Sonata No. 4 (1948)
  • String Quartet No. 1 (1924)
  • String Quartet No. 2 (1927)
  • String Quartet No. 3 (1948)
  • Trumpet Sonata (1951)
  • Violin Sonata No. 1 (1923)
  • Violin Sonata No. 2 (1923)
  • Violin Sonata No. 3 (1924)
  • Violin Sonata No. 4 (1948)
  • Violin Sonatina (1945)

Film

Of his many film scores, Dementia (1955), which contains no dialogue, only music, is believed by many to be his finest.

Written works

  • Death In the Dark, a crime novel edited and published by T. S. Eliot (1930)
  • Everyman His Own Detective: A Study of Glandular Criminology, New York City: Stackpole Sons (1937)
  • "The Shape of the War to Come", a pamphlet (1940)
  • Bad Boy of Music, Garden City, New York: Doubleday (1945; various reprints and languages)

Notes

  1. ^ a b c d e f g h i Greene, David Mason (1985). Greene's biographical encyclopedia of composers. Reproducing Piano Roll Fnd.,. pp. 1297–98. ISBN 9780385142786. http://books.google.ca/books?id=m3S7PIxe0mwC&pg=PA1297.  
  2. ^ a b c Garafola 2005, p. 256
  3. ^ a b c d e Crunden 2000, p. 313
  4. ^ Guy Livingston, "George Antheil's Childhood in Trenton", English text of article originally published in German as "Der Mann hinter dem Mythos: George Antheils amerikanische Kindheit", trans. Esther Dubielzig. Neue Zeitschrift für Musik 162, no. 5 (September-October 2001): 18–21.
  5. ^ Oja 2000, pp. 73–74
  6. ^ a b c Oja 2000, p. 74
  7. ^ a b Linda Whitesitt, Charles Amirkhanian, and Susan C. Cook, "Antheil, George [Georg] (Carl Johann)", The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, second edition, edited by Stanley Sadie and John Tyrrell (London: Macmillan Publishers; New York: Grove's Dictionaries of Music, 2001)
  8. ^ a b c Johnson 2002, p. 2
  9. ^ a b c Crunden 2000, p. 314
  10. ^ Whitesitt, Linda (Spring, 1984). "Book review: Bad Boy of Music by George Antheil; Charles Amirkhanian". American Music 2 (1): 110–11. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3051969.  
  11. ^ Oja 2000, pp. 74–75
  12. ^ Johnson 2002, p. 2–3
  13. ^ a b c Crunden 2000, p. 315
  14. ^ Oja 2000, p. 75
  15. ^ Wilhelm 2008, p. 267
  16. ^ a b Monnier, Adrienne (1996). The very rich hours of Adrienne Monnier. U of Nebraska Press. pp. 495. ISBN 9780803282278. http://books.google.ca/books?id=JcH7g0vj1B0C&pg=PA495.  
  17. ^ Crunden 2000, pp. 315–17
  18. ^ a b White, Eric Walter (1985). Stravinsky, the composer and his works. University of California Press. pp. 80–84. ISBN 9780520039858. http://books.google.ca/books?id=p3gjrxSRphoC&pg=PA83.  
  19. ^ a b Johnson 2002, p. 3
  20. ^ Fitch 1985, p. 148
  21. ^ Wilhelm 2008, p. 268
  22. ^ Meister, Barbara (2006). Music musique: French & American piano composition in the Jazz Age. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. p. 115. ISBN 0-253-34608-8. http://books.google.ca/books?id=WAxLixiOakUC&pg=PA115.  
  23. ^ Fitch 1985, pp. 150–51
  24. ^ Albright 2004, p. 70
  25. ^ a b Fitch 1985, pp. 156–57
  26. ^ a b c d Adams, Stephen J. (2005). "Antheil, George (1900–1959) and "Antheil and the Treatise on Harmony"". in Tryphonopoulos, Demetres P. and Adams, Stephen. The Ezra Pound encyclopedia. Greenwood Publishing Group. pp. 13–15. ISBN 9780313304484. http://books.google.ca/books?id=ttMlqGMYCsIC&pg=PA13.  
  27. ^ a b Suzanne Rodriguez Wild Heart: A Life: Natalie Clifford Barney and the Decadence of Literary Paris (New York: HarperCollins, 2002): 249. ISBN 0-06-093780-7.
  28. ^ a b Garafola 2005, p. 257
  29. ^ a b c d e Garafola 2005, p. 258
  30. ^ Oja 2000, p. 190
  31. ^ Oja, Carol (2000). "George Antheil's Ballet Mécanique and Transatlantic Modernism". in Ludington, Townsend. A modern mosaic: art and modernism in the United States. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. p. 185. ISBN 0-8078-4891-3.  
  32. ^ Thomas, Key & Rothe 2001, p. 56
  33. ^ Albright 2004, p. 69–70, 386
  34. ^ Oja 2000, p. 64
  35. ^ Fitch 1985, pp. 192–93
  36. ^ Thomas, Key & Rothe 2001, p. 58
  37. ^ Oja 2000, p. 176
  38. ^ Oja 2000, p. 71
  39. ^ Oja 2000, p. 195
  40. ^ Johnson 2002, p. 6
  41. ^ a b c Johnson 2002, p. 7
  42. ^ Garafola 2005, p. 260
  43. ^ a b c d Johnson 2002, p. 8
  44. ^ a b Marks, Martin Miller (1997). Music and the silent film: contexts and case studies, 1895–1924. Oxford [Oxfordshire]: Oxford University Press. pp. 14–16. ISBN 0-19-506891-2. http://books.google.ca/books?id=ALbz24g5aOAC&pg=PA14.  
  45. ^ a b c d "Music: Bad Boy at 53". Time. 1953-07-20. http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,889855,00.html.  
  46. ^ a b Garafola 2005, p. 266
  47. ^ Crunden 2000, p. 320
  48. ^ a b c Abelson, Harold; Ledeen, Ken (2008). Blown to Bits: Your Life, Liberty, and Happiness After the Digital Explosion. Lewis, Harry. Addison-Wesley. pp. 278–80. ISBN 9780137135592. http://books.google.ca/books?id=Y7DOltmSGjgC&pg=PA278&lpg=PA278.  
  49. ^ Albright 2004, p. 69
  50. ^ "Milestones, Feb. 23, 1959". Time Magazine. http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,825623,00.html. Retrieved 2009-07-24.  

References

External links

Listening

, New Jersey


Quotes

Up to date as of January 14, 2010

From Wikiquote

George Antheil(June 8, 1900, Trenton, New Jersey12 February 1959, New York City) was an American avant-garde composer and pianist.

Sourced

  • From Bad Boy of Music, on his life as a concert pianist:
The sweat—great slithering streams of it—pours down you. It runs down your legs, down the leg that is pedalling the sostenuto pedal, down the other leg. It oozes out all over your chest, flows down the binding around your middle where your full-dress pants soak it up. It flows everywhere, down your arms, down your hands.
You become afraid lest too much perspiration will wet your hands too much, make them slide on the black keys, which are too narrow; you are playing at about a hundred miles a minute. But somehow they don't. As long as they don't you know you're all right. You're going good, well-oiled like an engine. Not too much sweat, not too little.
It's only when you suddenly stop perspiring that your forearms go dull.
This is the one thing that every concert pianist dreads, has nightmares about. You never can tell when it's going to happen; it happens once in a hundred concerts, but it happens. When it happens it starts with a stiffness in the upper forearm. Then it travels down the forearm to your wrist, your hand, your fingers. The Bach fugue or the Chopin sonata beneath those fingers commences developing faults—little ones, then big ones. You feel the sudden surprise of the audience, its unfavourable reaction. The sweat all over your body, inside of that heavy woollen black suit with a stiff shirt and collar beneath it, freezes.
You crawl over the onrushing piano passages in slow motion. Your fingers are in ten little steel strait-jackets....
But to-night, thank God, you are sweating, sweating "like a hog". As you turn the corner on the Bach fugue and near the home stretch, you think, "What a way to make a living!" Later, when the piece is finished and you've gotten up and bowed and sat down again and mopped up your brow and your all-important hands, you think, "I wish I were a prize-fighter. This next round with the Steinway would be a lot more comfortable in fighting trunks...."
In the intermission, between group one and group two, you go to your dressing-room and change every stitch you have on you: underwear, shirt, tie, socks, pants and tails. Your other clothes are soaking wet.
You are twenty-two years old, trained down to the last pound like a boxer. You do not over-eat, smoke or drink and you work six to eight hours a day at a piano with a special keyboard in which the keys are so hard to press down that when you come to your concert grand at night you seem, literally, to be riding a fleecy cloud, so easy is its keyboard action. Before each concert, of course, you eat nothing at all.
Your pianos travel with you. So does your manager. You have no time for girls. Your manager sees to it that no young predatory females get very far.
You are a concert pianist. That was my life when I was twenty-two years old.
  • From Bad Boy of Music, on dealing with unruly audiences:
... I bought a small thirty-two automatic, and when I arrived in Berlin I went to a tailor with a sketch for a silken holster which was to fit neatly under my arm. (I had read about Chicago gangsters wearing their guns in this fashion.) Arching a brow, my Berlin tailor made the holster, which was comfortably padded. From then on my thirty-two automatic accompanied me everywhere, especially to concerts.
Quite a number of observers have commented on my coolness during various riotous concerts which I performed at during those first tumultuous years of the armistice between World War I and World War II. The reason is very simple: I was armed.
In early 1923 I once played a return engagement in Budapest which years later earned me the highly valued friendship of Ben Hecht. Several weeks earlier I had played a concert at the Philharmonie in Budapest and the audience had rioted. That did not disturb me so much as the fact that because of this bedlam they had heard none of the music. So, at my second appearance, I walked out on the concert platform, bowed and spoke up:
"Attendants, will you please close and lock the doors?"
After this was done I reached in under my left armpit in approved American gangster fashion and produced my ugly little automatic. Without a further word I placed it on the front desk of my Steinway and proceeded with my concert. Every note was heard and, in a sense, I suppose I opened up the way in Hungary for modern music of a non-Bartók–Kodály variety.

External Links

Wikipedia
Wikipedia has an article about:

Simple English

George Antheil (born Trenton, New Jersey, 8 July 1900; died New York City, 12 February 1959) was an American composer, pianist, author and inventor. He became known in America and Europe as a composer of very modern sounding music, including his Ballet Mécanique. His music was very noisy and full of mechanical sounds. His audiences were often shocked at the music. He spent some years in Europe, then, in 1930s, he returned to America where he spent a lot of time writing film music for Hollywood and ballets. His music became less aggressive and more traditional.

He had many interests, and spent some time researching female endocrinology, as well as writing a mystery novel and newspaper advice and music columns. Together with the actress Hedy Lamarr he invented and patented a frequency-hopping torpedo guidance system.








Got something to say? Make a comment.
Your name
Your email address
Message
Please enter the solution to case below
12+12=