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      in Music

      A Newly Translated Oral History Reveals Krautrock’s Antifascist Roots

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      Christoph Dallach’s book explores how Nazism, a postwar German identity crisis and anti-authoritarian youth movements spurred some of the most daring experiments of 1970s music.“We had to start from zero.” “We wanted to start over at zero.” “It wasn’t an intellectual approach, more an anarchic one: just starting over at zero.”Spoken by the saxophonist Peter Brötzmann, the composer Irmin Schmidt and the guitarist Lutz Ludwig Kramer, these assertions from the newly translated oral history “Neu Klang: The Definitive History of Krautrock” explain the high stakes driving Germany’s counterculture in the decades following World War II.After the unthinkable, Germany’s youth inherited a “country in ruins, and thus a ruined culture” (says Schmidt), a partition between the democratic West and the Soviet Union, a global fear of all things German, an identity crisis and a question: how to respond to the crimes of their parents?All easily forgotten when you’re listening to the buoyant and life-affirming music that generation produced in the 1970s. Kraftwerk, Can, Popol Vuh and their peers — a diverse movement often reductively called krautrock — raised the bar for electronic experiments and collaborative democracy in popular music, and helped set the stage for punk, industrial music and techno.But oral histories convince through mutual witness, and many of the 66 players and observers that Christoph Dallach interviewed for this book achieved their neu klang — their “new sound” — by fleeing Germany’s authoritarian past. First published in German in 2021, a translation of “Neu Klang” by Katy Derbyshire reveals to Anglophone listeners a generation of musicians wading through the legacy of fascism.“When I started school we still had to say ‘Heil Hitler’ for two days — and all of a sudden it turned into ‘Guten Morgen,’” says the pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach. For the drummer and electronic music pioneer Harald Grosskopf, whose father had been a Nazi officer, “My fight with him became the major conflict of my life” and “was probably what ended up taking me to krautrock.”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

    • 125 Shares99 Views

      in Movies

      Monet, Taylor Swift, ‘Moana’: What Got Readers Through Their Grief

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      After our series on how artists have been affected by loss, we asked readers what helped them when they experienced it. These are 15 of their answers.Over the Memorial Day holiday weekend, we published The Grief Project, a series of interviews with artists who discussed the ways that loss affected their work and creativity. We also asked readers about the art and culture — whether it was a book, a movie, a song or anything else — that helped them remember or cope with losing a loved one. Hundreds responded. Here is what some of them said.Music‘As’ by Stevie WonderLike Stevie Wonder, Nancy Hanks wrote, her mother “was soulful and full of spirit, enriching the lives of all she came in contact with.”Evening Standard/Hulton Archive, via Getty ImagesI’m not sure if it’s the melody or lyrics, but this song deeply captures the deep feelings of love and profound grief that I feel for the loss of my mother. Throughout the song Stevie Wonder professes all the ways and lengths that the depth of his love reaches. He notes “did you know true love asks for nothing / her acceptance is the way we pay.” I often am reminded of this. The grief that I carry is a tax on the lifetime of unconditional love I’ve experienced from my mother. Like Stevie, she was soulful and full of spirit, enriching the lives of all she came in contact with. We couldn’t have the proper celebration we wanted for her because of Covid, but I imagine if we did, we would have played this song along with so many more of her favorites and danced all night. I can’t hear the song anymore without feeling a deep sense of longing for her. I’m so grateful for her life and legacy, and I miss her terribly. —Nancy Hanks, AtlantaFilm‘School of Rock’It was less than a week after we lost our 4-year-old daughter Laila to cancer, in 2004. A neighboring couple, who had been supportive throughout Laila’s illness, brought over a VHS tape of “School of Rock.” In those very early days of bereavement, as far as I knew, I would never laugh again. But we popped in the videocassette, and before long I found myself laughing out loud, along with the family and friends gathered with us. Although my sadness filled my entire soul, there was somehow still room for humor. The wondrous physics of hope, in a lesson delivered by Jack Black with his electric guitar. As a family, we rewatch “School of Rock” every now and then, and it never fails to uplift. To me, it will always be a symbol of resilience. —Mary Janevic, Ann Arbor, Mich.SportsThe New York RangersWatching the Rangers “offered tremendous comfort to my family,” wrote Pam Poling, whose sister was a fellow fan.Joel Auerbach/Getty Images/Getty ImagesOur sister died in December after an incredibly brief illness. She was our go-to person for all things hockey, especially our beloved Rangers. Watching them skate so beautifully this season offered tremendous comfort to my family. Whether they win or lose, we often text each other, “Joanie would have loved this.” It really helps. —Pam Poling, Fairfield, Conn.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

    • 125 Shares169 Views

      in Theater

      Overlooked No More: Renee Carroll, ‘World’s Most Famous Hatcheck Girl’

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      From the cloakroom at Sardi’s, she made her own mark on Broadway, hobnobbing with celebrity clients while safekeeping fedoras, bowlers, derbies and more.This article is part of Overlooked, a series of obituaries about remarkable people whose deaths, beginning in 1851, went unreported in The Times.For 24 years, as the hatcheck girl at Sardi’s, the storied theater district restaurant on West 44th Street in Manhattan, Renee Carroll found fame from within the close confines of a cloakroom.From that post, she hobnobbed with celebrity clientele, fed insider gossip to newspaper columnists and wrote an immensely popular, chatty book that dished about which stage actress ate too much garlic (Katharine Cornell, if you must know) and how fading stars wistfully reacted when rising newcomers like Joan Crawford entered the dining room.Checking hats at a restaurant might seem like a menial job, and in fact the salary for safekeeping homburgs, fedoras, bowlers and derbies was measly, but Caroll saw the position as an opportunity to make her own mark on Broadway.With her wisecracking personality, she won over actors, writers and producers while earning dime or quarter tips. If someone checked a play script with her, she perused it and offered canny critiques, sometimes unsolicited, by the time the patron had finished lunch.Her approbation was considered such a good-luck charm that even hatless playwrights and producers were known to leave her money. Eugene O’Neill once entrusted her with his wristwatch when he had nothing else on hand to check.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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      in Movies

      6 Books Like ‘It Ends With Us’ by Colleen Hoover to Read Next

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      Whether the Blake Lively movie brought you to the Colleen Hoover universe or you’re a longtime CoHo fan looking for more emotional, spicy stories, these novels are for you.In the past few years, no writer has dominated the best-seller list quite like Colleen Hoover. The prolific author was one of the breakout stars of the self-publishing boom over a decade ago, and her global following has only grown with BookTok’s embrace of her novels. Now Hoover — CoHo to her fans — is setting her sights on the silver screen, with the release of “It Ends With Us,” the first film adaptation of one of her books; the movie, starring Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni, opens in theaters Aug. 9.Hoover’s fans adore her books for their emotional intensity: The stories often revolve around themes of trauma, resilience and hope, and the characters’ tragic histories and passionate struggles provide a catharsis that readers describe as not merely heartbreaking, but heart-stomping-into-smithereens. While she is commonly billed as a romance writer, Hoover also mixes in Y.A., thriller and horror, always with plenty of spice and drama. You can see her influence in the ample selection of new books that aim to walk a similar line — or by glancing around your local bookstore, where you can spot many covers that have gotten the “CoHo treatment.”Whether you’re new to Hoover’s work and looking to see what all the fuss is about, or yearning for some more high drama and emotional intensity while you wait for her next book, all of these options will keep you reading way past your bedtime.Book vs. movie, let me be the judgeIt Ends With Us, by Colleen HooverIf you’ve heard of one of Hoover’s book, it’s probably this one, which has spent a whopping 165 weeks on the New York Times best-seller list. Lily, a florist, is initially dazzled by Ryle, an enigmatic neurosurgeon. But painful moments from Lily’s childhood begin to echo into her present as she slowly realizes that Ryle’s charm belies an explosive temper — and when Atlas, her first love and her last tie to a life she’d left behind, reappears.Take me deeper into the CoHo universeWe 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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      in Movies

      ‘It Ends With Us’ Review: For Blake Lively, Love Hurts and Even Bruises

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      Blake Lively plays Lily Bloom, a flower lover with a thorny personal garden, in this gauzy adaptation of Colleen Hoover’s best-selling novel.Buried under the gauzy romanticism of “It Ends With Us” — under the softly diffused visuals, the endless montage sequences, the sensitive mewling on the soundtrack and the luxuriously coifed thickets of Blake Lively’s sunset-on-Malibu-Beach dyed-red hair — is a tough little movie about women, bad choices, worse men and decisions that doesn’t fit into a tidy box.Lively stars as the improbably named Lily Blossom Bloom, a beauty with a traumatic history, a soulful ex and a passion for gardening. Over the course of the movie, she falls in love with a neurosurgeon who looks like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad. She also befriends a wisecracking sidekick, opens a whimsical floral shop, endures heartache and, after much reflection and many plot complications, finds herself. It’s hard going, but Lily takes whatever life throws at her with her meticulously styled head up and a neo-bohemian influencer vibe. She’s a dream of a woman, an aspirational ideal, an Instagram-era Mildred Pierce.You may know Mildred from Turner Classic Movies as the pie-baking survivor played by Joan Crawford in the 1945 noir “Mildred Pierce.” Mildred walks into that classic wearing a mink coat with linebacker shoulder-pads and the kind of stricken look that clouds a woman’s face when she discovers that her no-good second husband is sleeping with her no-good teenage daughter, and the brat has just offed the creep. It’s no wonder that when Mildred stares into the nighttime waters of the Pacific, she seems to be mulling her equally dark past and future, much as Lily does one evening on a Boston rooftop early on in “It Ends With Us.”Lily doesn’t have long to consider her existential options because her rooftop reveries are soon interrupted by the neurosurgeon, Ryle Kincaid (Justin Baldoni, who directed the movie). A brooding hunk with soft eyes, hard muscles and miraculously unchanging three-day stubble, Ryle has a touch of menace and a gift for cornball lines, and before long he and Lily are flirtatiously circling each other. Love buds and, yes, blooms, and Lily settles down with Ryle. He seems like a ready-made catch (Baldoni gives himself plenty of close-ups), although anyone at all familiar with the conventions of romantic fiction will wonder about the intensity of his attentions. A picture-perfect guy doesn’t necessarily make a picture-perfect life, dig?Adapted from Colleen Hoover’s best seller by Christy Hall, “It Ends With Us” is fitfully diverting, at times touching, often ridiculous and, at 2 hours and 10 minutes, almost offensively long. It’s visually and narratively overbusy, stuffed with flashbacks of Lily as an adolescent (Isabela Ferrer) that create two parallel lines of action. As the adult Lily moves forward with Ryle and opens her store — she gets help from a nattering assistant, Allysa (Jenny Slate), who enters with her luxury bag swinging and motormouth running — images of the past fill in Lily’s history and her high-school romance with another student, Atlas. (Alex Neustaedter plays him as a teen, while Brandon Sklenar steps into the grown-up role.)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

    • 138 Shares199 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Harold and the Purple Crayon’ Review: He’s a Big Kid Now

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      Harold is an adult on a quest in this tale based on the beloved children’s book by Crockett Johnson.People have been threatening to make a movie out of the beloved children’s book “Harold and the Purple Crayon” for decades. When a visionary director like Spike Jonze was attached to a live-action screen adaptation of Crockett Johnson’s volume, the movie did sound more promising than threatening. (Jonze later left the project.)In any event, they’ve done it, and now “they” — the writers David Guion and Michael Handelman, and the director Carlos Saldanha — have gone and changed Harold from a cute baby into a cutesy adult. Or rather a child in adult form, played by Zachary Levi, whose Harold has two notes: a plucky grin and a furrowed brow.First, a narrated and animated prologue walks us through how the movie will shrug off the book. Then, the movie plods around awkwardly, trying to leech whatever charm it can from the remaining elements of the original (like that crayon): In Harold’s real-world quest for his “old man” — whose narration is cut off abruptly in the prologue — the old man does, indeed, turn out to be Johnson. (Johnson died in 1975 and his estate presumably and implausibly cooperated with this venture.) Along the way, Harold meets a family in need. There’s a standard-issue single mom (Zooey Deschanel, whose visible exhaustion here is actually a little too credible) and her boy, Mel (Benjamin Bottani), whose life is in need of wonder.This wonder will arrive through a tool of “pure imagination” (they really say that!). That is, Harold’s purple crayon, whose concoctions add some not-insubstantial visual interest to the proceedings. One scene in a department store, in which an actual puma and a too-functional kid’s helicopter ride contribute some anarchic slapstick, is a keeper. But it might have been better still as contrived by Terry Gilliam. Or Edgar Wright. Or Spike Jonze.Harold and the Purple CrayonRated PG for mild action and thematic elements. Running time: 1 hour 32 minutes. In theaters. More

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      in Music

      Richard Crawford, Leading Scholar of American Music, Dies at 89

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      American Music was a marginal subfield in the 1960s when he began his research as a student, and then as a faculty member, at the University of Michigan.Richard Crawford, a longtime professor of musicology at the University of Michigan who helped legitimize and popularize the study of American music, died on July 23 in Ann Arbor, Mich. He was 89.His wife, Penelope (Ball) Crawford, said the cause was congestive heart failure.“He was a pioneer who shaped the scope of American music research,” Mark Clague, a musicologist and professor at Michigan who studied with Mr. Crawford, said in an interview. “It wasn’t about celebrating an unchanging canon, but about opening up the magic of musical experience.”While studying at Michigan in the early 1960s, Mr. Crawford began examining a trove of papers that had been acquired by the school’s library concerning the 18th-century musician Andrew Law, who taught singing and compiled hymnals in Connecticut. The study of American music was a marginal subfield at the time; most scholars considered music history to be about the European classics. (The “American” part of the American Musicological Society, founded in 1934, referred to the nationality of its members, not their subject of inquiry.)Whereas Mr. Crawford’s adviser, H. Wiley Hitchcock — also a major force in American music studies — had traveled to Europe for his doctoral research on Baroque opera, Mr. Crawford preferred not to uproot his young family.So despite the potential career risk, he wrote his dissertation — and then a 1968 book — on Law, becoming one of the first scholars to dedicate his life’s work to music of the United States.His timing was fortuitous: Preparations for the 1976 U.S. bicentennial celebration spurred a new public interest in reviving early American music, and Mr. Crawford helped build its scholarly infrastructure. He was a founding member of the Sonneck Society, later renamed the Society for American Music; wrote the first biography of the Revolutionary-era composer William Billings, with David P. McKay in 1975; and, through painstaking bibliographic work, excavated large swaths of repertory from the beginnings of American sacred music.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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      in Music

      Book Review: ‘Seeing Through,’ by Ricky Ian Gordon

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      In “Seeing Through,” the prolific composer Ricky Ian Gordon shares the heroes, monsters, obsessions and fetishes that drive his art and fuel a dizzying life.SEEING THROUGH: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera, by Ricky Ian GordonEven devotees of symphony orchestras sometimes struggle with the opera — its muchness and pomp. “The uproar,” my father called it, and he was a serious amateur chamber musician who collected and played the works of obscure composers on a Montagnana violin that he most certainly would have saved from a fire before my guinea pig, Percolator.But enough about my daddy issues — let’s discuss Ricky Ian Gordon’s. Gordon is one of our foremost composers of modern opera (for what that’s worth, as he notes mournfully, to Generation iTunes), including works based on “The Grapes of Wrath” and “The Garden of the Finzi-Continis.” Now he’s also the author of a messy and mesmerizing new memoir called “Seeing Through.”“If I had my way, the whole world would look like a carnival,” writes Gordon, who has a synesthesiac “thing about color,” and this book is certainly pinwheels, sideshows and waxy litter scattered on the ground. Very entertaining; a little dizzying.Ricky was the youngest of four children and the only boy born to Eve and Sam Gordon, né Goldenberg, a dishonorably discharged World War II veteran — he’d punched an officer who’d made an antisemitic remark — who became an electrician and Masonic master, prone to lightning bolts of rage at home.This overstimulated family’s struggles were previously documented in the excellent 1992 book “Home Fires,” by Donald Katz — you can listen to it on Audible, which Katz, in one of those intriguing pieces of life-arc trivia, founded — and a year later in “Take the Long Way Home,” by Susan Lydon, the eldest daughter, a successful journalist who descended into serious addiction.Here, Sam’s neglect and maltreatment of his children, especially Ricky — who failed to be the expected “mirror” to his brute-force masculinity — comes in for more uncomfortable scrutiny. Sam never bothered to learn birthdays or look at schoolwork, cruelly beat his son and demanded sex from Eve multiple times a day, even when she didn’t want it.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