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    Linda LaFlamme Dies at 85; Her ‘White Bird’ Reflected a Hippie Fantasy

    With her husband, David LaFlamme, she founded the rock band It’s a Beautiful Day and wrote a soaring paean to a generation’s dreams of escape.Linda LaFlamme, a songwriter and keyboardist who helped found the San Francisco folk-rock band It’s a Beautiful Day in 1967 and co-wrote the band’s soaring “White Bird,” an enduring anthem of the psychedelic era, died on Oct. 23 in Harrisonburg, Va. She was 85.She died in a nursing home of vascular dementia, her daughter, Kira LaFlamme Newman, said, adding that Ms. LaFlamme had a stroke in April.Linda Sue Rudman was born on April 13, 1939, in St. Louis, the middle of three children of Edward Leonid Rudman and Annette (Miller) Rudman. She was classically trained on piano and harpsichord, but her tastes veered toward jazz and rock ’n’ roll. After graduating from the University of Wisconsin with a bachelor’s degree in English in 1961, she moved to San Francisco.Two years later, she met David LaFlamme, an Army veteran who had played violin with the Utah Symphony. Musically and romantically, “we just clicked,” she said in a 2020 interview with the music website Please Kill Me.They married the following year and went on to form the six-piece unit It’s a Beautiful Day, with the help of Matthew Katz, who managed Jefferson Airplane. Mr. Katz sent his new act to Seattle, where he had a rock venue, for seasoning. The LaFlammes were living in a cold, drafty house there in early 1968 when they wrote “White Bird.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Susanna Mälkki and Santtu-Matias Rouvali Take Over the Philharmonic

    Susanna Mälkki and Santtu-Matias Rouvali made back-to-back appearances with the orchestra, leading similar programs with distinct style.Finland’s top exports may be machinery and fuel, but in classical music it is also one of the world’s leading producer of conductors.Over the past century, Finland has nurtured a culture of musical education that has brought about generations of brilliance at the podium. It has given us some of the finest conductors working today, like Esa-Pekka Salonen, as well as some of our buzziest, like Klaus Mäkelä, who picked up storied jobs in Amsterdam and Chicago before the age of 30.As if in a testament to the saturation of Finnish conductors, the New York Philharmonic booked two back-to-back: Santtu-Matias Rouvali, for a program that continues through Tuesday at David Geffen Hall, and Susanna Mälkki last week.The similarities between the two conductors’ programs don’t end with their nationality. Both opened with a contemporary work making its Philharmonic premiere; both featured late pieces by Richard Strauss; and both ended with music written during, and in the shadow of, World War I.Yet these two weeks at the Philharmonic felt satisfyingly distinct. There may be many Finnish conductors, but there is not a Finnish style of conducting. Mälkki and Rouvali both have an intelligent, even wise sense of shape, but are excellent in their own ways; she is a master of color, he of surprise. And the music they programmed, while superficially similar, differed in sound and scale.The biggest difference was between the two contemporary works. Rouvali’s concert, on Thursday, opened with Julia Wolfe’s “Fountain of Youth” (2019), a nine-minute exclamation that starts percussively, with scratch tones in the strings and scraped washboards. Then the score gradually expands to include the whole orchestra: fluttering, sustained notes in the winds and wailing, animalistic cries in the trombones, as well as stylistic interjections like blues, folk fiddle and rock.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    New York’s Wu-Tang Clan Street Signs Sell Out in a Blink

    The 100 replicas of the “Wu-Tang Clan District” sign on Staten Island, where the group was formed in 1992, were gone in less than two hours.New York celebrated the Wu-Tang Clan by releasing on Thursday 100 replicas of the street sign on Staten Island named for the group. They were all snapped up in less than two hours.The Wu-Tang Clan was formed in Staten Island’s Park Hill neighborhood in 1992, and went on to become one of hip-hop’s most beloved and influential acts. The city named an intersection in Park Hill “Wu-Tang Clan District” and unveiled the sign in 2019.The commissioner of the city’s Transportation Department, Ydanis Rodriguez, called the group “a legendary part of Staten Island’s North Shore,” in a statement replete with puns and references to Wu-Tang’s music.The department began monthly releases of limited-run replicas in June to honor famous New Yorkers and events. The proceeds go to the city’s general fund. The first one marked Pride Month with a sign reading Christopher Street/Stonewall Place, where a police raid of the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar, set off unrest in 1969. That replica sold out in under three hours.The replicas, which the Transportation Department sells for $75, are produced by the shop that makes New York City’s street signs. The department has compared them to limited-edition sneaker drops.The other releases include replicas of the signs honoring the Brooklyn hip-hop superstars the Notorious B.I.G. and the Beastie Boys, and Mariano Rivera, the Yankees legend. All the releases sold out quickly. More

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    Johnny Gandelsman’s ‘This Is America’ at the Met Museum

    Johnny Gandelsman has commissioned 28 pieces for his project “This Is America,” which explores themes of love, hope, inequality and injustice.In a quiet corner of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the violinist Johnny Gandelsman took a few deep breaths and began to play.“Sky above us,” he sang, with the cellist and songwriter Marika Hughes. “Ground below us; 360 support around us. Cut discursive thought.”It was Wednesday morning, the day after the presidential election, and Gandelsman, 46, a recent recipient of the MacArthur “genius” grant, was rehearsing “This Is America.” He will bring this project, a collection of 28 pieces he has commissioned and begun to record since 2020, to the Met’s American Wing for a marathon performance spread over Friday and Saturday, with the aim to capture the modern American spirit: its love and hope, but also its inequality and injustice.

    This Is America – An Anthology 2020-2021 (ICR023) by Johnny Gandelsman“This Is America” began four years ago, but, Gandelsman said: “The rhetoric is still the same; the injustices are still the same. I am doing everything I can to represent these voices and support them and uplift them.”For the project, Gandelsman, who was born in Moscow and grew up in Israel before coming to the United States at 17, provided composers with $5,000 and simple instructions: to write a piece for solo violin that responds to the times we are living in. They responded with a variety of styles, including contemporary classical music, jazz, world music and electronics.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Most of Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs’s Accusers Are Unnamed. Can They Stay That Way?

    The debate over anonymity in civil and criminal sex abuse cases weighs the principle of a fair trial with the desire to protect accusers’ privacy.As Sean Combs faces numerous anonymous accusers in both civil and criminal court who say he sexually abused them, his lawyers have argued that such anonymity is an unfair impediment to his defense.In more than half of the 27 sexual abuse civil suits against the music mogul, the plaintiffs filed under the pseudonyms Jane Doe or John Doe, drawing opposition from Mr. Combs’s lawyers.Similarly, in his criminal case, where he has been charged with racketeering and sex trafficking, the defense has argued that prosecutors should have to reveal the names of the alleged victims who are part of their case. The only accuser listed in the indictment was identified as “Victim 1,” though prosecutors say there are multiple.“Without clarity from the government,” his lawyers wrote in a letter to the presiding judge, “Mr. Combs has no way of knowing which allegations the government is relying on for purposes of the indictment.”Sexual assault accusers have long sought anonymity in the courts and in the media. The flood of complaints during the #MeToo movement ushered in a much broader societal understanding of their fears of retribution and social stigmatization, and protocols in the American media that withhold accusers’ names became even more entrenched — a commitment illustrated last month when the country superstar Garth Brooks identified an anonymous accuser in court papers. Few, if any, media outlets published her name.Securing anonymity in civil court can be much more challenging.So far, at least two judges in Federal District Court in Manhattan have rejected requests from plaintiffs to remain anonymous in lawsuits against Mr. Combs, who has denied sexually abusing anyone.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Banned From Atlanta: The Challenges of Young Thug’s Unique Probation

    The rapper was released from jail last week after a surprise guilty plea. For 15 years, a set of strict requirements will govern his life and music.One of the defining Atlanta rappers of his generation is no longer welcome in Atlanta.Following a surprise guilty plea last Thursday in a gang conspiracy and racketeering case that had already lasted nearly three years, the musician Young Thug, born Jeffery Williams, was given 48 hours to vacate the Atlanta metro area, as defined by the U.S. Census Bureau, for the next decade.Once the chart-topping face of Atlanta’s ever-evolving music scene, Mr. Williams, 33, may now return only briefly, under strict circumstances: for the anti-gun and anti-gang presentations he is required to make to local youth four times annually, or for the weddings, funerals, graduations or medical emergencies of his immediate family members.Mr. Williams’s banishment from his hometown was just one of 12 special conditions that he agreed to as part of a plea deal that allowed him to be released from jail that very evening. But can an international hip-hop star pick up where he left off under a new set of strict provisions that could reshape his lyrics, persona and pool of collaborators?According to experts, the length and intensity of Mr. Williams’s probation could present complications down the line, given the requirements of his profession and the vagueness or subjectivity of some of the rules that now govern his life.The judge in the case — who was given full discretion to decide on a punishment because Mr. Williams’s lawyers and prosecutors could not agree on a sentence even if he pleaded guilty — decided on time served and 15 years of probation, with an additional 20 years of prison time hanging over Mr. Williams’s head if he violates the agreement.Along the way, Mr. Williams must agree to be searched at any time; take random drug tests; refrain from promoting gangs in any way; and avoid associating with known gang members, excluding his brother, the musician Quantavious Grier, who is known as Unfoonk; and Sergio Kitchens, or Gunna, a rapper signed to Mr. Williams’s label. (Both Mr. Grier and Mr. Kitchens took plea deals in the same case ahead of trial.)We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    5 Minutes That Will Make You Love the Vibraphone

    Are the vibes good? These tracks by Milt Jackson, Lionel Hampton, Roy Ayers and others, chosen by 12 musicians and writers, should convince you.We’re living in the era of “vibes.” But before that word was everywhere — before elections had “vibe shifts” and before a first date could be breezily ended because the vibes were just off — there was the instrument that started it all: the vibraphone.If you aren’t quite sure what that sounds like — well, there’s only one way to describe it. It’s vibey.Invented in the 1920s as an electrified variation of the marimba, the vibraphone is made out of tuned metal bars, which the player strikes with mallets; a tubular resonator that carries the sound; and a set of electronically controlled fans affecting how much vibrato goes on the notes (that is, how much they warble). Out of this complex contraption wafts a sound that is mellow and ethereal, but starkly rhythmic. After all, the vibraphone is a percussion instrument: Most vibraphonists who double on something else play the drums.The vibraphone has been a feature of jazz bandstands since about 1930, when a young Lionel Hampton — one of the first improvisers to master it — impressed Louis Armstrong by playing along with the trumpeter’s solos note for note. At Armstrong’s encouragement, he switched from being a full-time drummer to a vibraphonist. As its popularity grew, jazz musicians gave the instrument a nickname: “the vibes,” a term that came to signify not just the instrument’s metal bars and their vibrations but also the hazy, moody feeling that its sound produced.It is little wonder that, amid the revolutionary grooves of the 1960s, that term made the leap from jazz (and from Black American vernacular) to the general population. In the process, it gave us a slightly more musical way of describing everyday life.In the nearly 100 years since Hampton’s innovation, the vibraphone has traveled through the many shifts and stages of jazz and Black American music. These days, it’s being played by a broad range of musicians — from straight-ahead swingers to avant-gardists — a number of whom are quoted below. Read on for an array of vibes-heavy tracks, selected by musicians and writers. You can find a playlist at the bottom of the article, and if you have a personal favorite that wasn’t on the list, go ahead and drop it in the comments.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Shenseea’s Dancehall Music Makes Women ‘Feel Free’

    While touring the Bob Marley Museum in Kingston, Jamaica, on a Saturday in late September, Shenseea, the dancehall pop singer, paused at a glass case. Inside was the Grammy lifetime achievement award that Mr. Marley received posthumously in 2001.“Haffi get one,” she said in Jamaican Patois of her desire to win a Grammy of her own.Shenseea, 28, who was wearing a cropped turquoise halter top, a matching flowy skirt and Louis Vuitton slides, has already come closer than many. In 2022, she was up for album of the year for her work as a collaborator on Ye’s album “Donda.”The museum occupies Mr. Marley’s former home in the Jamaican capital, where Shenseea also has a residence. Though she was raised mostly in Kingston and grew up listening to Mr. Marley’s reggae music, she had never been to the museum before.“He made it so cool to be a rasta,” Shenseea said, referring to Mr. Marley’s association with the Jamaican spiritual movement Rastafarianism. She had left the museum and was sitting in the back seat of a white Mercedes-Benz, playing a string of breezy new songs she has yet to release. Mr. Marley, Shenseea continued, “showed the people that it’s OK to live your life the way you want to, even though it’s different.”The same could be said for Shenseea. Dancehall, a musical genre known for its suggestive lyrics and provocative visual style, was not a feature of her upbringing in a Christian household. “I wasn’t allowed to listen to dancehall music when I was young,” Shenseea said. “When I was in high school, that’s when I fell in love with it.”She is now among the brightest young stars of the genre, which blossomed in the 1970s in Kingston and is named for the dance halls that held parties in the city.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More