Slovenian Nightingale: Elda Viler

For such a tiny, little country Slovenia sure always had its share of huge musical talents: along with Marjana Deržaj and Majda Sepe, Elda Viler was a pillar of female pop singers of the 1960s and beyond. There were certain things working against her, namely the fact that Slovenian language is very specific and its market very small (making it almost impossible to leave big impact on much bigger territory of Ex Yu where official language was Serbo-Croatian) and Viler was not exactly a sexpot, but once she started singing it was such a naturally pretty voice that it was impossible to ignore the fact that she might have been one of the best singer around in any competition.

A native of small place near Italian border, Viler must have been listening to a lot of Italian pop music as she grew up, because she sounds exactly like best of them. It is not a coincidence that back in 1960s she recorded a lot of Italian covers (even a whole Italian-language EP recording) and continued to look up to her idols for inspiration trough life, as this generous compilation shows: Mina and Patty Pravo are just some of the singers Viler successfully covered, it is note for note but voice makes all the difference. Where Italian originals relied heavily on recognisable mannerisms, Viler's is natural, bell-like clear instrument that possessed effective flexibility and leaves deceptive impression of gliding trough scales with no effort. Make no mistake, this lady was a born singer (and her daughter apparently inherited this talent).

This compilation is excellent introduction to her best known work: not by any stretch a commercial singer, Viler had a built impressive repertoire of high quality, moody pop ballads where her voice soars backed by huge orchestration typical for 1960s and 1970s. She might have not sold truckloads of these records, but Viler was certainly darling of songwriters, composers and lyrics writers - cream of Slovenian musicians ( Mojmir Sepe, Ati Soss, Jure Robežnik, Gregor Strniša, Elza Budau) seems to have been throwing themselves at her feet and contrary to lots of far more commercially successful artists whose compilations now sounds dated, Viler's life work is and always was classy, sophisticated and hugely enjoyable.

Hoagy Carmichael's "Stardust" opens this compilation, just to be followed by "A Foggy Day in London Town" and two selections by Antonio Carlos Jobim. This is my kind of singer. There's not a wrong note in all these 25 songs where Viler sprinkles her own star dust on combination of international covers and Slovenian originals, all perfectly arranged and sung with that amazingly effortless voice - and what a voice it was! Had she been born somewhere in the west, Viler would already have her pick between sold out concert halls around the world - unfortunately her lot was to spend life where destiny had placed her and raise her family in these circumstances, with all joys and disappointments this brings.

It is impressive recapitulation of her 1970s work, lots of orchestrated pop and massive amount of best Slovenian songwriters behind her, the list of composers and lyrics writers reads as Who's who in Slovenian music scene. There is occasional performance from Ex Yu pop festivals where frankly Viler couldn't leave any impressions because of the language barriers but her Slovenian language recordings were impeccable. Jazzy improvisations of Carmichael and Gershwin are purposely toned down for pop material, however there is distinctive musicality and vision in everything she did and even if these recordings were not a money-making business, what Viler left behind is pure gold. I only wish that someone collects her earlier, 1960s work, it sure must have been hiding in some archives because lady first debuted on big stage back in 1964. If you are familiar with music of Ditka Haberl, Viler is like her older sister with somewhat richer voice.

This double CD and DVD with live celebration of 50 years on the stage is a fitting tribute to Slovenian songbird, a handsome package and surprisingly strong recapitulation of her place on music scene. It is a truly and anthology of best Slovenian songwriting as cream of composers, lyrics writers and arrangers were involved, providing Elda Viler with music that stands up with anything recorded in other parts of Europe during 1960s and 1970s.

The package is true cornucopia and embarrassment of riches - if live concert performance of still vital singer and her numerous guests has not already floored you, there is a CD with her "greatest hits" (much loved pop classics) and most interestingly of all, a whole CD of unreleased archive stuff that is simply mind-boggling because it actually almost overshadows more popular repertoire. This unreleased collection was pulled out of all sorts of festival performances, unreleased takes and unused tracks showing off Viler's mellow and flexible voice in dazzling variety of surroundings, one of these songs ("Bird of Paradise") was even used for a title of whole compilation. Her own take on "Insieme" by Italian singer Mina is fascinating - it is perhaps my personal favorite from Mina's complete, decades long discography and true blue-eyed soul with haunting, piercing melancholy - Viler covers it note for note but infuses it with her own spirit and puts her own stamp on it. Lovers of female pop vocals would love this package.

Voices from the past: Gigli, Tauber and Björling

Today I will write about some of elderly gentlemen in my music collection, preserved on record in a full spring of their youth for posterity, the way they once were.
It was curiosity that brought me to them, although the choice was far from random as I have heard and enjoyed all three of them on "Nimbus Prima Voce" compilations and I knew perfectly well what to expect - a magnificent presentation of golden voiced ART.

Beniamino Gigli happened to start exactly at the time of unexpected death of world's greatest tenor and star of New York's Metropolitan Opera House, Enrico Caruso.
Nobody could ever replace lovable, chubby Neapolitan whose fame coincided with invention of gramophone records and thanks to them he was known and loved internationally, but young Gigli was a fair discovery, being already in demand in Italian opera houses and his international break was probably just a matter of time. A son of shoe-maker, Gigli had a perfectly natural, much sweeter and lighter sound than Caruso and truth to be told, personally I like him even more. This excellent "Prima Voce" compilation is focused on years 1918-1924 just as he started his international career and shows that at the age of 28 he was a true, original artist without need to copy anybody. Repertoire included here is classic, operatic fare, Puccini, Donizetti, Leoncavallo and such, with a dash of popular Neapolitan songs and occasional beautiful surprise like "Un di all' azzurro spazio" by Unberto Giordano that would have impressed even Caruso himself.

Just like heroic, booming voiced Ezio Pinza was completely unfairly remembered for his later Broadway roles and Hollywood musicals, Austrian tenor Richard Tauber is nowadays remembered for his excursions in popular operettas by Franz Lehár. It was by no means all he ever did but those recordings sold so well that majority of listeners probably couldn't care less for his more serious work as he became so popular as entertainer (and even made some movies where his limping and squinting were overshadowed by sheer charisma). By all accounts a true artist with sophistication and wide knowledge (he studied composition and conducting) Tauber put elegance, warmth and heart in everything he did, be it any operetta "schlager" or singing under baton of Richard Strauss himself. For some reason I had not explored Tauber's popular, operetta sides as yet but I am more than happy with this compilation of his operatic works recorded between 1920 and 1928 where he shines in Mozart, Puccini, Korngold and (gasp) Wagner (of all people) - it is a instantly recognisable voice, no matter what he did, the sign of a true original.

Jussi Björling performed as a boy with his father and brothers in "The Björling Male Quartet" but lost both of his parents at the age of 16, after which he was granted stipend in Stockholm's Royal Opera House from where his magnificent voice eventually catapulted him to stardom. Collected on this CD are some of his earliest Swedish-language classical recordings (Verdi, Puccini, Leoncavallo, Mascagni) and the most striking of them all is traditional Swedish folk song "Ack, Värmeland du sköna" that he does with such gentle yearning, quite impossible to resist. The repertoire here covers his recordings from 1930 to 1938 when he was already member of Metropolitan Opera House in New York. I have heard him also in two recordings of "Cavalleria Rusticana" (with Milanov and Tebaldi, respectively) and must admit its one of the best tenor voices I have ever came across, it is the type of sound I have no problem adjusting or understanding anything, its simply love at the first listening. Definitely strange that such a beautiful, shining Bel Canto voice comes from a Swedish singer, but than his father was also opera singer and apparently both his son and grandson inherited the talent, so it must have been running in the family. Hear and marvel.

Dubrovnik for sale

Last night I saw a very interesting documentary (yes, I had actually switched on TV specially for that) titled "Dubrovnik for sale" that got me thinking.

For the last 20 years, since the end of civil war and after all the bombings that this beautiful old town survived, lots of people had moved out of the town to suburbs, sold their family homes for good price and left the old historical heart of Dubrovnik to mostly foreign investors who are turning it into a one huge hotel. Since this is one of the most popular tourist destinations on Adriatic, the daily stampede galloping trough these ancient marble streets is now by far exceeding anything that town has seen trough many centuries and its alarming that tourism seems to have finally achieved what plague, Turks, Venetians and pirates could not do, to actually drive locals out of the town. Where once 2 500 families lived, now there are only around 700 families, the rest is all empty and for rent. Another reason for this is also that though the old town is spectacularly beautiful, the real life had moved on outside its walls, new built areas having modern houses, parking places and shops - the old historical part is now just a skeleton attracting visitors for its architectural uniqueness and historical importance but young people prefer to live elsewhere. Not only because its extremely expensive to re-decorate and re-build old historical housings to modern standards, but also because every single vital office or shop had moved out of here and left their place to souvenir markets. To get a button or a needle, one would have to drive out of city walls to a new parts of town where true life is.

I saw with my own eyes that this had already happened to Venice - it is just a huge historical corpse with thousands of little shops buzzing with life during the day, but after a nightfall the streets are ghostly, emptied and dark, no one lives there anymore, everyone has gone to new parts of town. Venetians themselves had reluctantly moved out, they only work there selling their gaudy souvenirs and serving meals to tourists but everyone can see how frustrated and disinclined they are towards this huge amount of tourists pouring on their streets day after day. Citizens of Dubrovnik noted themselves that they would rather not to become like Venetians. However, money is the issue here - more than greed I believe its a fear that motivates people to get a good price for ancient family home and secure themselves somewhere else, letting historical old town to be prostituted for profit. The whole coastal region in Croatia lives quite nice and comfortable from several months in a season (say, May to October) where tourism of all sorts brings enough money to locals - but since media bombards people with constant warnings about oncoming Apocalypse, they get worried and frightened so they jump on offers to sell their homes and are ready to start comfortable life in less crowded area out of city walls.

 To be honest, no matter how romantic and refreshing it might seem to live in old historical part of Dubrovnik, these are after all, ancient old houses, often one has to climb the steep steps left and right on his way home - not to mention constant noise of tourists milling around just in front of your window. I had this experience first-hand when I lived as a teenager in a Zagreb's oldest and historical street (Tkalčićeva) that probably seemed like Montmartre to casual coffee drinking trendy crowd, but believe me it was nightmare for us who actually have to live with noise right under our windows from early morning to late nights. God forbid to actually just pop out in grocery store dishevelled and not ready to face stern, inquisitive and critical looks from the people who got there to be noticed. To be honest, I would probably prefer to live in a nice, new part of Dubrovnik with comfortable wide streets and enough sun instead of being locked in a dark, medieval labyrinth no matter how romantic it might appear at a glance.

It is sad and probably inevitable result of tourism that after all gives a town its primary financial support - when cruise ships dock here, no less than 9 000 people attack Dubrovnik on daily basis - I don't see a tiny handful of hard-core locals who are still resisting offers to sell properties as influential enough to change anything, they are fighting with windmills and will eventually be swarmed with foreigners who will open more souvenir shops. In future Dubrovnik will become a victim of its own poverty, greed and willingness to sell its soul. And this future is not so distant, even today its almost unpleasant to walk these overcrowded streets because it is a cutest but still a little place. No wonder Croatians themselves avoid Dubrovnik and they prefer to spend their vacations on any of thousands of little beautiful and still unspoiled Adriatic islands. For us this is a certain pride but we accept it as a tourist trap and in my opinion even tourists themselves started to realise this. Once this all has been sold to foreigners, it will be too late to get it back.

Tribute to old local cinema houses

This collection of used cinema tickets, dating from 1970s and 1980s reminded me on weekly ritual (mostly weekends) when as a kid I visited local cinema theatre in my hometown Zagreb. The kids today probably have no idea what a threat it was to indulge yourself in something so thrilling and instantly rewarding. Today we have Internet, absolutely everything is immediately available, downloadable and instantly forgettable, not to mention the huge cinema chains that offer bunch of screening under one roof. But what about small local neighbour places, like the ones from my childhood?

When I was growing up during 1970s and 1980s, our neighbourhood was lively and lovely - little shops everywhere, nothing fancy but perfectly functional, pharmacy, vegetables, butcher, supermarket, news agent, shoe maker, photographer.... everybody there knew each other and often they would chat with customers, I don't remember money ever being an issue. You don't have enough now, you pay the rest next time. My school was just around the corner and I would often leave the house only when I heard the bell announcing start of the class. Our local little cinema was called "Kino Studio" and here is where I was usually sent away on Sunday afternoons (wonder why) to immerse myself in a something far more exciting than what our crummy old black-and-white TV offered. At that time we had only two TV channels, no remote control and I don't remember ever being specially picky about what we watched - documentaries, sport, old movie classics and family shows. But cinema was another thing - here you got completely lost in adventures of Superman, Star Wars and Indiana Jones, everything was huge, spectacular and in colour. The very first movie I saw was something about "Zeppelin" (probably disaster spectacle) followed by "The Island of Dr.Moreau" with Burt Lancaster that scared me to death. Lots of Bruce Lee, detective thrillers and trains crashing.

Other cinemas around were "Partizan" (much bigger) and "Mosor" where we went only if they showed something more interesting. Since my family was working class, they ignored art movies presented as a part of new screenings from Berlin Festival so I grew up in the dark about Ingmar Bergman and such directors, those I had to discover later by myself. My childhood days were therefore influenced by adventure movies, comedies and actors like Steve Mc Queen, Charles Bronson and Clint Eastwood. No musicals whatsoever until "Grease" thrilled me to death and I watched in three days in a row, excited with high school story. Much further in the centre of town were big, classy cinemas like "Zagreb" and "Balkan" where the biggest hits were screened, "Tuškanac" that was situated in a park and had younger audience and there was also "Kosmaj" cinema where soldiers crowded because of screening of Kung Fu movies combined with soft porn. As I started growing into a shy teenager, I was dying to see soft porn but could not bring myself to be seen there and when I finally got a courage to nonchalantly (and red faced) enter that cinema, by some mistake I found myself watching Bruce Lee.

What is this all little story about is my reminiscence about local cinema houses spread strategically around the town. About the guys re-selling tickets for biggest hits, about the popcorn that was sold outside in the street but forbidden to bring in the cinema theatre (and everybody had it hidden under the jacket), about the whole adventure of taking a tram to another part of town just to see the movie and than excitedly discussing it with friends on the way back. Most of what thrilled me than would probably bore me to death now. During my first visit to London I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the glamour on Leicester Square and immediately phoned home to inform about popcorn and soft drinks being sold in the cinema - "they even have a place on the chair for the drinks!" I yelled to my unbelieving friends.

Things had changed a lot since. Local little cinema houses had almost completely disappeared in Zagreb (they are still there but empty), new monstrous cinema chains replaced them and we are now closer to a western trends that bundles everything under one roof. On several of those new screenings I couldn't bare the loudness of the sound and to be honest, even audiences themselves. Amsterdam still cherish the tradition of local cinemas and I love them dearly, though unfortunately my favourite Filmmuseum had moved far away from a beautiful park and into some ultra modern building that does not appeal to me. More than ever before, the whole cinematic experience turns into a private pleasure at home in front of own screen - comfortable perhaps but distant from how we first learnt about it. Maybe the childhood simply can't be lived again.

About old pre-WW2 classical recordings

It is a strange to what kind of music we turn as for the comfort.

I am not talking now to music as the "background", something that people might use as the noise to occupy the brain while doing everyday chores, although I do remember a certain point in my life where I loved Vivaldi's opera "Orlando Furioso" so much that I tagged it with me even as I cleaned hotel rooms and made beds (am I the only cleaner who scrubbed toilet seats to Vivaldi?). Not I am talking about searching for wise words of wisdom from pop songwriters, no matter how talented they might be - at the end of the day, I am always aware that those people are in the "business" and the craft is what matters here the most. I still might like pop music to a point, but it does not move or thrill me as much as when I was younger and more impressionable with all that cellophane. Since at certain point I felt a tedious déjà vu familiarity with pop music, I had moved slowly away from it and looked elsewhere.

Thanks to CD format, suddenly we have huge, new world of all sorts of archives available to hear - just like time machine, these beautiful, ancient and magical documents of art recorded long ago preserves voices and sounds from a century ago. First it was my introduction to 1920s Blues artists like Bessie Smith and her court that moved me deeply and made me aware there is more to recorded music than just current new chart discovery. Though to be honest, I wallowed in music encyclopedias even trough my childhood and soaked everything in, so it might be just the right timing when I finally had opportunity to hear all this. From 1920s recording of Bessie to 1920s recordings of Enrico Caruso it was just a small step, really, I dived into ancient pre-WW2 classical world with a strong enthusiasm and never got tired of it since.

When I am alone with myself, be it happy or sad, there are big chances I will play something from "Nimbus Prima Voce" repertoire - it is a UK based company specialised in this kind of music and I am perhaps a serious collector, since I still love and purchase their compilations with greatest passion and care. The idea was first to make myself familiar with old recordings before I move to recent artists for comparison (opera lovers always complain that before the Flood things used to be better) but I never seems to make that step forward because I enjoy old recordings so much. You can keep all the media overexposed Andrea Bocelli's for yourself but I still pee with excitement when I hear something like John McCormack 1916. recording of Mozart aria, hypnotic Tito Schipa, refined Mary Garden or any of those now rarely mentioned names. Since this is a huge universe, there are always new discoveries of this exciting family portraits and every now and than I marvel at people like Jussi Björling, Claudia Muzio, Pol Plançon or sweet voiced Russian wonders like Nikolay Figner, Dmitri Smirnov and such.

Sure, not everything old is so effective - the very last surviving "castrato" Alessandro Moreschi sounds like a wailing old woman to modern ears (here for once I prefer modern day counter tenors like Andreas Scholl, Michael Chance and James Bowman), many of these ancient artists were just hamming it up and way too many sopranos like Conchita Supervia had a than fashionable flourishes, ornamentations and vibratos that just make me laugh. But then again, here are artists like unbelievable Maria Ivogün who appealed to me from the first moment, Marian Anderson whom I loved instantly or gentlemen like Richard Tauber, Beniamino Gigli and Ezio Pinza with whom I never had any doubt. And how about non-singers, instrumentalists like Alexander Brailowsky, Jascha Heifetz, Wanda Landowska or conductors like Victor De Sabata, Sir Thomas Beecham or Arturo Toscanini, even Pietro Mascagni or Richard Strauss themselves? I love this world dearly and truly, though it might appear as a completely eccentric choice of music and I hardly know anybody who would understand what am I talking about.



Again and again, what is going inside my head appear immensely more appealing than reality around and it brings me again to that old question of what is actually reality, what is important and what moves me. Strange but this is not something that was nurtured or taught anywhere - it is a natural response to beauty and inspiration that goes arm in arm with choices in life. We are who we are even if life sometimes reduces us on scrubbing toilet seats. But a sang along to Vivaldi along the way so this is what counts.

"My Dinner with André" (1981) by Louis Malle

Deceptively simple, yet breathtakingly masterful "My Dinner with André" tumbles the whole conception of the "movie as entertainment" on its head and boldly presents film as a thought-provoking medium. Far from being a dry technical experiment, it actually glues a viewer to the screen, not because its delicate camera work or some visual flourish but because of what it was said, how it was said and what kind of unspoken communication goes on around the table. There is a pure, serious magic going on here and its experience quite unlike any other movie I had ever seen.

Since we are all brainwashed that movies have to "have a story" the whole idea that we can watch two hours dinner conversation sound somewhat absurd - not only it works, but it leaves one head buzzing for days, if not for weeks. In a nutshell - two friends who have been close but drifted apart trough the years, meet for a dinner and talk. Not your usual superficial chit chat, but real, intelligent conversation between two grown up persons about meaning of life, search of one's purpose, the difference between dreams and reality, choices in life and such. That one is a sensitive dreamer and another firmly locked into material world just makes the conversation flow more fascinating. To my own surprise I found myself completely drawn, almost hypnotized into this and feeling that I actually understand both of them. Perhaps it is too early to say and I might need to see it several more times before I finally made my mind about this, but maybe - just maybe - we could keep our own gentle, dreaming André inside and live outside lives as Wally and his simple joys, electric blanket and all.

I am perfectly aware this is not a movie for everyone, for the simple reason that lots of people don't have any point of reference to all of this - surprisingly big number of them don't even know what is a conversation like this. That there were individuals like André Gregory, Wallace Shawn and Louis Malle leaves a huge, deep impression on me. Honestly, the next movie I see will just appear superficial. We are now used to nonchalantly watch crime as entertainment and it makes me sick already, I mean how many killings, rapes and throat cuting scenes can one watch in life?  "My Dinner with André" was a real eye-opener. Loved every second of it.

"August: Osage County" (2013)

Powerful drama-around-the-family-table with dream cast and five producers standing behind it.
Tracy Letts  theatre play must have been sensation on the stage and acting in it cathartic for actors involved - now its successfully translated into big screen and boy, is it a strong movie or what. Huge amount of energy and talents are amassed here and most surprisingly is how everybody in this huge cast gets his chance to shine, it is really hard to imagine anyone else in this roles now, its almost as someone dreamed "hey, if we make a movie out if this, who would you like to have in it?"

Meryl Streep is a matriarch from Hell who drives her gentle, soft-spoken poet husband (Sam Shepard) into suicide and in the aftermath of his funeral the family is assembled around the family table, where all the Hell breaks loose. In a heart-wrenching sequence after sequence we follow as parental cruelty creates more unhappiness and cruelty in a vicious circle that never ends and only continues to grow like cancer in Streep's character mouth. Just like Violet (Meryl Streep) herself once suffered at the hands of her own mother, now she is the one who tortures everybody around her and her nastiness spreads around like some infectious disease , affecting not only the youngest, third generation but even innocent bystanders. Even when Violet doesn't spit insults from her cancerous mouth, just her presence and Medusa-look is enough to affect everybody present.

Just as she probably emotionally blackmailed her late husband to the point he could not take it anymore, Violet now manipulates and pulls the strings above her three daughters and its fascinating to watch energy between them. There is the strongest Barbara who has all the predispositions to became her mother (Julia Roberts), soft and self sacrificing old maid Ivy (Julianne Nicholson) and a family bimbo (Juliette Lewis) who is basically constantly overlooked,hushed or screamed at. The rest of the family - aunts, husbands, boyfriends and children - are not just a background but all deeply involved with their own dramas. At the end the only single person who has not had meltdown is quiet, recently employed Native Indian (Misty Upham) stunned in her shock of what is going on around her.

As expected, Meryl Streep is nothing less than brilliant, though in this role she comes very close to latter-day Bette Davis. We watch her in horror as she gleefully throws arrows around her in painkillers-induced drug stupor, just to watch even bigger horror her sudden look that wordlessly express she knew everything all along and not a single family secret has ever escaped her. The most fascinating thing about this movie is how it suggests that Meryl Streep is passing her crown to (gasp) Julia Roberts who more than holds her own, in fact Roberts shows such a huge range of emotions here that it caught me completely by surprise - never in a million years I suspected she has it in her and years (nah, decades) in blockbusters behind her only bored me so far. Now I must re-think this.

Old photographs: Amsterdam and Zagreb a century ago

Two beautiful old photographs from beginning of last century, both made in two cities I am very familiar with.

Years ago, when I still lived in Amsterdam, there was a exhibition about classic photographs taken on the streets around the city some 100 years ago. One of those photos was made into beautiful poster (for which I specifically searched the whole town over) and this was the poster I had back than proudly displayed on the wall at my work, to everybody's pleasure. It was a long time ago and I couldn't for the life of me remember the guy's name but thanks to Internet I somehow re-discovered it again and its here to grace my virtual world now: photographer is Jacob Olie and he was a wonderful talent who lived long ago, this picture was taken on the streets of Amsterdam in 1902.

Even more fascinating is this photo taken in my own hometown Zagreb - fascinating because there is absolutely nothing recognizable today on present location. If it wasn't for other people's comments, I would never in a million years recognize the street where I used to pass daily on my way home - "Pod zidom" ("Under the wall") right in the shadow of today's big open air market place Dolac with its colorful red umbrellas and flowers. Nobody knows what year this photo was taken but its wonderful reminder how the street looked back than, not one single building is here right now. Only the street probably follows the same path. I guess lots of people imagined I must be very lofty to actually live right in the centre of historical part of Zagreb, but in reality this ancient little houses were just a slum with distinctively unsophisticated living conditions, tiny apartments crammed with impoverished characters and not only that often one floor would share WC (no bathrooms) but almost everyone used firewood for heating even during 1980s when I lived there. Absolutely nothing elegant about it, except if one imagines himself being some kind of bohemian artist. But its true, the heart of town was right outside my door. I wonder does anybody even thinks today, as they are sipping their cappuccinos during fashionable walk in centre, about faces in the windows above. Present but invisible at the same time.

New Silent Movies - "The Artist" and "Blancanieves"

To my biggest surprise, I just saw - and truly enjoyed - two new silent movies made recently, not by coincidence both in Europe.

As a lifelong admirer of silent movies, I was initially very suspicious when I heard about French movie "The Artist" and even awards that showered it could not convince me this is not just a gimmick.
Until I saw the movie.
It is a love letter to old silent movies made with great sensitivity, joy and passion - kind of "Singin' in the Rain" story about silent stars falling sideways while talkies took over, with two main stars positively glowing on the screen. I honestly don't remember when was the last time I saw somebody lighting the whole screen with a smile, the way Jean Dujardin and lovely Bérénice Bejo do here. Pure magic. I guess everybody is feeling surprised how much they enjoyed it even though it has no special effects, science fiction space shuttles or anything acrobatic - its light-hearted, funny, romantic and wonderfully entertaining experiment.

Strangely enough, Spanish "Blancanieves" was written in 2003 but it had to wait for finances until it was finally done in 2012, when of course "The Artist" had already stole the thunder and overshadowed this beauty, which in my opinion is even better. As much as I loved "The Artist", this Spanish re-telling of Brother Grimm fairy tale is far superior, darker and yes, more original. It turns "Snowhite" completely upside down, placing it in contemporary Sevilla with bullfights, matadors and flamenco dancers. The cinematography is truly   spectacular and although everything is black-and-white, it has a very powerful imagery - one simply can't stop watching it. We know the story, yet it is twisted and turned around so playfully that viewer never know what to expect since this Spanish Snowhite has her own life that only vaguely reminds us on its origins. And the music score is just fantastic.

I must also add that by some technical mistake I had to read "subtitles" in both movies in their original languages, French and Spanish - and I was just fine perfectly understanding everything since silent movies live in their own universe where language is unimportant.

"The Complete Collection of Songs and Spiritual Albums" by Leontyne Price

My very first purchase in 2014 was 12 CD box titled "The Complete Collection of Songs and Spiritual Albums" by celebrated American soprano Leontyne Price.
I can't resist to a nice packaged CD box and have already similar collections by Montserrat Caballé and Marilyn Horne - sure, it takes me forever to actually go trough so much music and to be honest, perhaps I would be better off with "The best of" compilation but its usually a curiosity to hear lesser known and now forgotten complete albums that drives me to buy these collections + they have good, remastered sound and original album covers so who can resist.

Just like her name suggest, Leontyne Price is a lioness with a instantly recognizable, fierce and dramatic voice - her discography is so huge that RCA Victor decided to omit her operatic work and concentrate here on complete albums of her spiritual and "song" collections. Like some brilliant link between Marian Anderson and Jessye Norman, Price truly shines on her spiritual albums (particularly on "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" from 1962) though I find her whole albums focused on art songs of for example Samuel Barber perhaps less instantly likable - where with spirituals and hymns I love both music and singing, when it comes to "art songs", Berber, lieder and such, here my concentration suddenly wonders off. Like in "box of chocolates" I stumbled quite unexpectedly upon 1964. recording of "El Amor Brujo" piece by Spanish composer Manuel de Falla here and its a joy - for some time now, I loved "Iberia" by Isaac Albéniz and this is just as good - truly delicious, distinctive Spanish music (Fritz Reiner conducted Chicago Symphony Orchestra and it is a perfect setting for Price). This might easily be the highlight of the box set.

The most surprising is actually her take on famous "Four Last Songs" by Richard Strauss ("Grammy" winner for 1974.) that sound strong, powerful and not unlike later similar recording of Jessye Norman - I always assumed that Norman single-handedly turned this work inside out, but now I realize this was not a case, Price was there before. Another curiosity is collaboration with André Previn ("Right as the Rain" album) where she changes that famous powerhouse voice into more intimate, sensual croon - very interesting crossover album. Also included here are two Carnegie Hall concerts (from 1965 and 1991) where Price sounds even stronger on later recording. Just as is usual the case with this kind of "collected album" box sets, it all boils down to subjective preferences and even those can probably change with times - magnificent and dignified singer though, the voice is truly regal and unusually versatile.

BBC's "Planets"

Just watched BBC documentary "Planets" with greatest interest and moment ago finished the last episode, still dizzy from excitement and ideas.

The world of science is amazing and ever inspiring - we made some really fast progress in the last few hundreds years; each step, each new idea fighting to be accepted because human nature is prone to suspect, doubt and reject anything that is clashing with old ways. Most of these scientists, old and wrinkled as they might be today, still have wonderfully alive spark in their eyes as they talk about their discoveries and why this is so important for humanity. Russians, Americans, French, Indian.. they are dreamers who dared to follow their dreams even when experiments were disastrous and sending probes into space often meant exactly that. There was a funny story told by a elderly Russian scientist who was building machine that would examine signs of life on Mars - just before machine was being send, they decided to experiment on Earth first and it didn't show any signs of life here either! So its all about hit and miss.

With all this fascinating informations we have today about our solar system, its history and probable future, detailed pictures of Moons around Jupiter and Saturn, our own little pale dot so tiny in universe and even new science that tries to find other stars and solar systems outside ours, its really amazing that people here on Earth still follow such nonsense as religion. I really can't believe that with all this scientistic evidence of life creation, universe and planets, there are billions of uninformed humans who simply refuse to open their eyes and educate themselves - even trough well made TV documentaries if they can't be bothered to read - I really, really don't see the point of church, priests, confessions and all that circus at this point when we are gazing at the distant stars and discovering things so far away. We are intelligent beings, formed from a star dust brought here on all kinds of comets from far away trough billions of years ago. And just as our world is dazzlingly varied, the world out there must be even more varied - perhaps not necessarily friendly, who knows - we might end up simply as a food for someone out there, I wouldn't be surprised. Just looking back at our own past, when cultures meet often there would be all sorts of epidemics sweeping the unknown territories.
I truly enjoyed watching "Planets".

The Record Of Singing 1899-1952

A staggering 10 CD collection that attempts to cover earliest days of gramophone recordings from 1899 to 1952, its classical music stars and artists preserved for posterity in their various singing styles, divisions by different types of schools and background. Apparently this massive volume was first published as 12 LP box back in 1977 but there were some confusions about the right pitch and this has all been corrected now.

This huge, wonderful collection is a true cornucopia overflowing with ancient recordings that go back as far as 1899 and it showcases voices from long gone eras and what was popular back than - right at the start we are treated with the last known recording of true castrato Alessandro Moreschi and contrary to expectations, his voice sounds actually very alien to modern ears (more like old woman's wail than thing of beauty we read about) which has probably more to do with our point of reference than any recording imperfections. For every Moreschi there are dozens of fascinating voices like Adelina Patti, Nellie Melba, Geraldine Farrar or Mary Garden - and gentlemen like Pol Plançon, Edouard de Reszke, Enrico Caruso and Leo Slezak.

Naturally this kind of collection serves not only as a time capsule to a world long gone now (a true time machine) but also as fascinating introduction to some lesser known voices (at least for me) and introduction to dazzling talents of singers like Nikolay Figner and his wife, Dimitri Smirnov (a Russian counterpoint to Beniamino Gigli), Marcel Journet, Elvira De Hidalgo (singing teacher of Callas) and countless of others who worked, lived and breathed during 78 era and were actually loved and celebrated way back.
Naturally it makes one wonder about fleetingness of fame and how much our lives actually leave the mark - on many instances here, these artists have inspired young generations who came after them and who in turn, created something else, completely original on their own. Contrary to accepted belief, I don't find so many of earlier singers superior to what came afterwards - its simply that public taste had changed and new recording techniques pushed the envelope, I am absolutely sure that listeners in 1912 would equally be impressed with amazing vocal feats of Marilyn Horne or Joan Sutherland if they had a chance to hear them.

Višnja Korbar Zlatna Kolekcija

So far the best career retrospective of "Croatian Milva" this "Golden Collection" is divided between two CDs, one for each face of her music.

Nostalgic radio listeners would recognize CD1 as testament to her (now extremely rare) EP and single recordings from 1960s/early 1970s when velvety-voiced Višnja Korbar graced many pop festivals stages. Its a joy to hear many of these old songs now remastered and still sounding good, because she truly was one of the best voices around, even though like so many other singers at the time her repertoire heavily relied on international covers - when in 1968 she finally got her own originals ("Subotnje veče") it was a glowing bossa nova that pointed what a sophisticated singer Korbar could be with the right material. However, maybe Korbar's resistance to face commercial aspects of music business dwarfed her visibility on pop scene (as Siniša Škarica's informative liner notes point, its a Sisyphean task to avoid mainstream in this industry) and though she might have cautious and selective with her choice of right music, this approach never paid off as at the end of the day she was "pop schlager" singer without a hit.

Some other factors also contributed - the most impressive moment in her discography ("Zbog jedne davne melodije") was not included on "Opatija 70" album (or any single), planned TV shows were cancelled, technical difficulties botched up her first (and only) LP album, international job offers were refused and her involvement in Croatian version of "Les Miserables" was aborted when show was taken off the program (and a year later became huge hit on London's West End).

When in 1966. Korbar was invited on regional festival "Krapina" that promoted music with strong local village flavor (therefore, interesting only for locals) it was just a nice offer from her birthplace - in her wildest dreams Korbar couldn't possibly imagine this will be her home for the rest of career. Here, far from big national festivals and on a fringes of business, she thrived trough waltzes, polkas and what is best described as Croatian "country" - CD 2 presents her "other life" on stages of regional festivals where local dialect naturally limited visibility of this kind of music. Seems that Korbar found far more pleasure in happy ditties like "Šala bila,šala bu" than anything she had done earlier in her Gershwin covers - here finally she had found her true home and seems that she accepted this kind of music as her destiny. It is not by any stretch bad, only somehow a bit letdown to hear this magnificent voice languishing so far from a limelights.

Elvira Voća Zlatna Kolekcija

Elvira Voća (b.1942) was one of ubiquitous names in 1960s and 1970s Croatian music scene, one of those also-runners on numerous pop festivals so popular back than but for the life of me I can't remember any of her big hits and I doubt she ever had any. Not that anything was wrong with her - she had a pleasant voice and was attractively coiffured blonde - but at the end of the day she always sounded as whitewashed copy of already well established Gabi Novak and her repertoire was so darn unadventurous that she seems to have passed her life unwittingly attempting something that was far beyond her.

CD1 tries to recapitulate Voća's pop career and at the end of the day it all falls on listing countless festivals where she performed - there is nothing offensive here but nothing of much interest either. Voća croons gently again and again trough her "schlager" repertoire like some good natured neighbor lady who imagines herself like a singer - having famous and influential husband couldn't hurt - but when she covers everything from Engelbert Humperdinick to Abba or Stevie Wonder, I really think WTF this was fight with windmills, five decades and not a ripple left behind. I mean, who cared besides Elvira herself? Deep down inside, she was probably forever star struck winner of amateur contest who saw herself fit to bore audiences with her thin voice for decades. The only mildly interesting track here is cute, rare early 1960s single recorded in Italy when her little chirp got her noticed over there (kind of early Mina music) before she returned home and had sunk in mediocrity. She might boast about performing on 365 festivals (guess who had arranged this?) and no one ever cared.

CD2 collect her work on regional festivals in Krapina and Slavonija - this is a fairly uninteresting stage, to be honest, a place where artists who were never successful nationally found their home, singing waltzes and polkas in local dialect. I am not being cynical when I think this is what famous composers used to promote their wives. Here Voća crooned forever, year in, year out, without ever inspiring anyone or leaving any trace of her life work. To be fair, in this kind of music she is perhaps passable because there were no big names to overshadow her. No doubt, there must be audience for this but its simply Sunday afternoon radio fodder, nothing more.

Bruno Petrali

Brainchild of composer Mario Kinel, Bruno Petrali (b.1925) happened to be young radio presenter with fine voice that Kinel needed for his ideas.
Post-WW2 Yugoslavia was not exactly the best place for pop music (considered "opium for masses") and re-building of war-torn country was considered far more important task than entertainment, however people at Radio Rijeka used their proximity to Italy to translate than-popular hits from San Remo and Italian repertoire to Croatian language and in process they not only promoted some local artists but also got some serious home-grown discography at the time when not many people even owned gramophone.

Complete Petrali's discography (1955-56) is collected here on this compilation CD and he was actually very good - less wooden than more known Ivo Robić and Zvonimir Krkljuš, Bruno Petrali was a fine crooner with a tender, masculine voice who was clearly inspired with Italian singers popular at the time (Alberto Rabagliati and Ernesto Bonino) and their repertoire, he even sings in excellent Italian language and his songs sound surprisingly well when compared with originals. Most of them were note-for-note covers with lyrics translated by Mario Kinel who was lifelong admirer of Italian sound and used all his energies in promoting it as popular music, often completely ignoring what was popular in US at the time (consequently, rock music would arrive to Yugoslavia dressed in Italian covers). Petrali himself later turned to theatre and journalism, since singing was not considered a proper job. his 1950s work mostly forgotten until CD release unearthed this chapter of his life.