Moshe leiser biography of abraham lincoln

Culturally knowledgeable TNE readers that you are, most of you will
have realised where this takes place – Nagasaki, Japan – before this, the
climax of the second act of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly was reached; but my
purpose in teasing it out in this way is to emphasise quite how pointed the
critique of western imperialism is. The wronged young Japanese woman
thinks the ship’s very name is a harbinger of deliverance; and what could be more devastating, given that it’s also the name of the so-called Great Emancipator himself, whose principles and actions are seen as directly leading to the liberation of America’s black slaves.

The irony – given that Abraham Lincoln conveys Cio-Cio San’s nemesis, the errant and now bigamous Lieutenant Pinkerton – would not have been lost on those who witnessed the opera’s first productions in the 1900s. Yet how much more resonant it seems now, given the parlous state of contemporary American liberalism, and the interracial conflicts, which, over 100 years later, continue to plague the American body-politic.

Given all this, it seems strange that the Royal Opera House’s current production of the opera should have become a sort of test case for a new approach to some of the most celebrated works in the repertoire that
its director, Oli Mears, has dubbed “colour conscious”. Taking Madama Butterfly as exemplary in this respect, he describes it in an article for the Guardian as “a nasty story” that raises the troubling question of whether
depicting Pinkerton’s misogynistic behaviour somehow endorses it; moreover, the “racial dimension” of the piece feels, he writes, “too hot to handle”.

So, in order to not just handle but create a production of the piece, Mears and his colleagues have engaged specialists with a view to rendering Madama Butterfly – which was originally conceived in this way by Puccini himself – a yet more effective synergy of a European art form with Japanese traditional cultur

A sun-drenched morning greeted townsfolk and cultural tourists alike for the 43 no-weather-spoiler day at this year’s Spoleto Festival Opening.

People gathered in the street outside City Hall. Many of the wise women of this fair city sported wide-brimmed hats and beat fans against the heat; seersucker suits and straw hats remained the dress code for men (though I noticed some relenting of this custom.) Those familiar with the program stood in the shade by the wall on the opposite side of the street; others who knew perhaps even better stayed away, “Too hot.”

But I and plenty of others, bred like mad dogs and Englishmen, sat out in plein air, excited to be back in Charleston and part of one of the greatest international festivals in the world. Spoleto was first envisioned by composer Gian Carlo Menotti, who launched festivals in Spoleto, Italy and Charleston in “twinship” 43 years ago.

Following a lively prelude of local jazz from the talented Robert Lewis Quartet and a ringing of the bells from St Michael’s Church, the Venerable Calhoun Walpole from Grace Church Cathedral gave the invocation, citing that Charleston’s past and future are inextricably linked to the arts and particularly its commitment to Spoleto. “For sight and insight …[through the arts] in these perilously difficult and confusing times.” Amen.

Later in the program, Joe Cunningham, Congressman for South Carolina, returned to this theme, saying, “Arts have never been more necessary than now,” referring to our country divided and isolated. “Art challenges, provokes, and elicits emotional reactions… Art can inspire, heal, and console,” and he urged us as audience members to allow the challenges – especially when we are made uncomfortable – to renew and reunite us.

He recalled three presidents who had a great understanding of the importance of the arts.  Lincoln during the Civil War commanded the rebuilding

It’s breakfast time and Louis Langrée is heading for Cincinnati airport. The previous evening, the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra’s French music director has conducted the first concert of his eleventh and last season. Last summer, he closed another crucial chapter of his career, 20 years at the head of the Mostly Mozart Festival in New York, which was unceremoniously discontinued this year. While his Cincinnati episode is also coming to a close, the conductor is celebrating two years in charge of the Opéra-Comique in Paris: we are speaking to a genuinely transatlantic musician.

Jean-Pierre Rousseau: You’re the defining example of a French conductor who has spent the bulk of their career abroad. How did that come about?

Louis Langrée: It’s not only in France that this happens. Look here, in the US – all the great orchestras are headed up by foreigners (as, indeed, they have been in the past): Andris Nelsons in Boston, Riccardo Muti in Chicago, Jaap van Zweden in New York, Gustavo Dudamel in Los Angeles… In Berlin, you have Krill Petrenko, in Munich you have Simon Rattle, while in Paris, you have two Finns and a Romanian! Of the fourteen music directors who have headed the Cincinnati Symphony, only three have been American. This is one of the oldest orchestras in the country and it’s been enriched the presence of such contrasting personalities as Eugène Ysaÿe, Fritz Reiner, Max Rudolf or, more recently, Thomas Schippers, Michael Gielen or Paavo Järvi, my immediate predecessor.

In fact, orchestras take us on to benefit not just from the experience we have built up, but also to get a fresh vision of the repertoire, which will renew their colour palette and the way they approach works. Conversely, the musicians bring to the conductor their own tradition and exper