Patches of snow cling to the muddy earth in the city’s picturesque nineteenth-century cemetery just to our north. Down in the gorge immediately to our…
Posts published by “David Yearsley”
Rather than heading south with the droves of springbreak-bound students fleeing the endless winter of Upstate New York, I spent a couple hours last week…
Since medieval Germans attached pedals to their organs way back in the 14th Century, the instrument has been as much a gymnastic apparatus as a…
This past weekend at New York’s Lincoln Center the iconoclastic organ virtuoso Cameron Carpenter unswaddled his restive imagination’s latest brainchild, a year-and-a-half in gestation. Midwife…
There is no more oxygen-hungry corner of the cosmos than Hollywood on Academy Awards night. Consumption of the life-sustaining substance reaches dangerously high levels each…
There are two approaches to watching the Olympics—and to listening to them. The first is to sail over the contradictions of the Games like you’ve…
...the unsavory vision of Bob Dylan sliding into Chevrolet’s latest sedan and gurgling patriotic garbage about American pride above ambient guitar chords
This nimble little falsettist of a Mars turns out not to fit the traditional image of war-loving deity that his stage-name suggests.
I first came to Berlin in 2003, just after the great Claudio Abbado, who has died this week in Bologna, had passed the baton to Simon Rattle after more than a dozen years at the helm of the Berlin Philharmonic. While living in Berlin, I had the chance to hear Abbado only once in what turned out to be his penultimate visit as guest conductor to the Philharmonie, one of the world’s greatest concert halls of any era, and proof that warmly welcoming and imaginative public buildings could be created in the harsh climate of the Cold War and, almost literally, in the shadow of the Iron Curtain.