.MTM5OA.MTIwODcx: Difference between revisions
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students were able to give mature performances | students were able to give mature performances | ||
of the simple concerti, and a student recital | of the simple concerti, and a student recital | ||
at Santa Cecilia was | at Santa Cecilia was an event of notable interest. | ||
I were to play the Vitali Chaconne as I once | if I were to play the Vitali Chaconne as I once | ||
did one cold evening in an inn near the [??] | did one cold evening in an inn near the [[Portzi??] | ||
of | of Assisi. I doubt that I would be cordially applauded by the | ||
passers by as I was then when music was as | passers by as I was then when music was as | ||
native to Italy. As for the guitar then violin makers, of which | native to Italy as the vines of olives. As for the guitar then violin makers, of which | ||
there used to be a number of distinguished men in Rome | there used to be a number of distinguished men in Rome | ||
and in Florence, it was with difficulty that I | and in Florence, it was with difficulty that I | ||
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went down in ashes-of-coral behind the Roman | went down in ashes-of-coral behind the Roman | ||
domes. the heavy melancholy of | domes. the heavy melancholy of | ||
ancient streets at night and the reek of | ancient streets at night and the reek of Etruscan urine in | ||
Revision as of 21:08, 16 July 2021
piece. By the time they were twelve, the violin students were able to give mature performances of the simple concerti, and a student recital at Santa Cecilia was an event of notable interest. if I were to play the Vitali Chaconne as I once did one cold evening in an inn near the [[Portzi??] of Assisi. I doubt that I would be cordially applauded by the passers by as I was then when music was as native to Italy as the vines of olives. As for the guitar then violin makers, of which there used to be a number of distinguished men in Rome and in Florence, it was with difficulty that I recently located only the aged Cassini, sitting alone and idle in his dusty workroom.
In June of 1927 I left Rome to join my family in Maine for the summer. Painfully I left the scalding afternoon light on dusty walks, the sun which went down in ashes-of-coral behind the Roman domes. the heavy melancholy of ancient streets at night and the reek of Etruscan urine in