This is where my thoughts pool as a reservoir of miscellany and peculiarity. It's actually not my brain that's dripping -- it's my soul that's leaking.
It's really no big deal.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Kapralova's Piano Concerto
In her concerto -- Brahmsian flourishes and inflections; Rachmaninoff moments of melancholy; Beethovian mystery to open the Largo, which later takes on some Shostakovitch vibes.
But pervading through the whole piece -- "a certain slant of light" that I can only imagine to be Bohemian.
Ms. Kapralova was a remarkable composer, writing with natural, fierce, and imaginative flair.
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