LOS ANGELES, California -- Alice Ghostley, the Tony Award-winning actress best known on television for playing Esmeralda on "Bewitched" and Bernice on "Designing Women," has died. She was 81.
Ghostley died Friday at her home in Studio City after a long battle with colon cancer and a series of strokes, longtime friend Jim Pinkston said.
Ghostley made her Broadway debut in "Leonard Sillman's New Faces of 1952." She received critical acclaim for singing "The Boston Beguine," which became her signature song.
Miles Kreuger, president of the Los Angeles-based Institute of the American Musical, said part of Ghostley's charm was that she was not glamorous.
"She was rather plain and had a splendid singing voice, and the combination of the well-trained, splendid singing voice and this kind of dowdy homemaker character was so incongruous and so charming," Kreuger said.
In the 1960s, Ghostley received a Tony nomination for various characterizations in the Broadway comedy "The Beauty Part" and eventually won for best featured actress in "The Sign in Sidney Brustein's Window."
From 1969 to 1972, she played the good witch and ditzy housekeeper Esmeralda on TV's "Bewitched." She played Bernice Clifton on "Designing Women" from 1987 to 1993, for which she earned an Emmy nomination in 1992.
Ghostley's film credits include "To Kill a Mockingbird," "The Graduate," "Gator" and "Grease."
She was born on August 14, 1926, in Eve, Missouri, where her father worked as a telegraph operator. She grew up in Henryetta, Oklahoma.
After graduating from high school, Ghostley attended the University of Oklahoma but dropped out and moved to New York with her sister to pursue theater.
"The best job I had then was as a theater usher," she said in a 1990 Boston Globe interview. "I saw the plays for free. What I saw before me was a visualization of what I wanted to do and what I wanted to be."
She was well aware of the types of roles she should pursue.
"I knew I didn't look like an ingenue," she told The Globe. "My nose was too long. I had crooked teeth. I wasn't blond. I knew I looked like a character actress.
"But I also knew I'd find a way," she added.
Ghostley, whose actor husband, Felice Orlandi, died in 2003, is survived by her sister, Gladys.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Sunday, September 9, 2007
New directive may limit musical 'noise'
VIENNA, Austria (AP) -- Shhhh! Mute the brass, and please -- go easy on the cymbals!
A European Union directive on noise abatement contains a provision that will limit the "noise" of symphony orchestras beginning early next year.
While it's not meant to ban Beethoven's "ba-ba-ba-baah," some musicians are worried overzealous enforcement could take the "Joy" out of the German master's exuberant "Ode to ..."
"It can't work in symphony orchestras," says Libor Pesek, conductor of the Prague Symphony. "How could you apply it to Gustav Mahler, for instance, or Richard Strauss?"
Though musicians bristle at the claim, some evidence suggests the classics are just loud noise for the non-music lover. In the 1990s, opera singers rehearsing in a Copenhagen park apparently caused a rare African okapi at the nearby zoo to collapse and die from stress.
Still, the main thrust of the EU noise directive is not aimed at symphonies. Meant to regulate noise levels in the work place, much of the six-page document deals with generalities more applicable to construction sites, factories and other traditional places of noise chaos.
"Workplaces where workers are likely to be exposed to noise ... shall be marked with appropriate signs," says a typical excerpt. "The areas in question shall also be delimited and access to them restricted."
Because regulators recognize that all noise is not created equal, musicians are not worried about security tape going up around the orchestra pit any time soon.
The directive took effect for most other work places five years ago, but it was postponed until February 15, 2008, for "the music and entertainment sectors" to allow creation of "practical guidelines" tailored to the concert stage and other musical venues.
That has not dispelled concerns enforcement of the maximum noise limit set at the work place -- 85 decibels on an average work day -- could hamper musical freedom by undercutting sound levels preferred by Beethoven, Stravinsky or Bruckner. The score of Tchaikovsky's Sixth, for instance is sprinkled with fff's -- forte fortissimos.
Alison Reid Wright, a noise expert who has worked with British orchestras on noise reduction, says ensembles already are considering how to readjust their programs to conform with the directive.
"They wouldn't take a large noisy piece to a small venue," she said. "And some orchestras have been trying to balance the noise by offsetting a very powerful piece by less powerful pieces."
Others, she said, might follow the example of an Australian opera orchestra, which decided a few years ago to use "one set of musicians for the first half and another set for the second half" to protect their hearing.
Still others have begun modifying orchestra pits with acoustic paneling that absorbs some of the sound level without interfering with the clarity of the music for ensemble members. There are ear plugs and protective plastic panels that shield individuals near the brass or percussion section.
Such aids were used even before the directive was conceived. Trumpets push out 110 decibels during peak parts of Wagner's Ring Cycle, tubas 110 and trombones 108.
Even violins have registered 109 decibels. And a flute at peak level near the right ear logs 118 decibels -- substantially above the noise of a power drill heard close up.
The problem lies with some musicians. Many refuse to wear adequate ear protection, claiming it interferes with their ability to play. And some are reluctant to use shields.
"I don't like you and I don't like the noise you make so I am putting my screen behind me to protect myself from you," said Reid Wright, explaining the negative vibes sent by such devices.
Another difficulty is how to measure exposure. Orchestras can produce peak sound levels substantially above the new EU limit while playing much below it at other times.
And there are few "typical" work days. While pre-concert rehearsals can stretch from morning to evening, typical performances last little more than three hours. "Then, there are the musicians who are more prone to overexposure" -- typically strings sitting in front of brasses, said Josef Kerschhagel at Austria's Ministry of Labor, which will enforce the decree. He said his department will likely have to monitor orchestras randomly and over a week's time to be able to average out levels.
Kerschhagel says all monitoring will be unobtrusive.
But many musicians are critical, saying any attempt to regulate sound levels trespasses on artistic freedom.
"Do you need the nanny state to step in and say, 'No, you cannot play the bass drum fortissimo in the Verdi Requiem?'," asked bass trombonist Douglas Yeo of the Boston Philharmonic.
Contrabassist Michael Bladerer of the Vienna Philharmonic said his orchestra is "a private organization, and we will do what we want to."
Vienna State Opera director Ioan Holender noted that comparing noise and beautiful sound is like not differentiating between "weeds and the most beautiful blossoms."
And for veterans like Pesek, the Czech conductor, the decree comes too late. "We're all deaf anyway," he said.
A European Union directive on noise abatement contains a provision that will limit the "noise" of symphony orchestras beginning early next year.
While it's not meant to ban Beethoven's "ba-ba-ba-baah," some musicians are worried overzealous enforcement could take the "Joy" out of the German master's exuberant "Ode to ..."
"It can't work in symphony orchestras," says Libor Pesek, conductor of the Prague Symphony. "How could you apply it to Gustav Mahler, for instance, or Richard Strauss?"
Though musicians bristle at the claim, some evidence suggests the classics are just loud noise for the non-music lover. In the 1990s, opera singers rehearsing in a Copenhagen park apparently caused a rare African okapi at the nearby zoo to collapse and die from stress.
Still, the main thrust of the EU noise directive is not aimed at symphonies. Meant to regulate noise levels in the work place, much of the six-page document deals with generalities more applicable to construction sites, factories and other traditional places of noise chaos.
"Workplaces where workers are likely to be exposed to noise ... shall be marked with appropriate signs," says a typical excerpt. "The areas in question shall also be delimited and access to them restricted."
Because regulators recognize that all noise is not created equal, musicians are not worried about security tape going up around the orchestra pit any time soon.
The directive took effect for most other work places five years ago, but it was postponed until February 15, 2008, for "the music and entertainment sectors" to allow creation of "practical guidelines" tailored to the concert stage and other musical venues.
That has not dispelled concerns enforcement of the maximum noise limit set at the work place -- 85 decibels on an average work day -- could hamper musical freedom by undercutting sound levels preferred by Beethoven, Stravinsky or Bruckner. The score of Tchaikovsky's Sixth, for instance is sprinkled with fff's -- forte fortissimos.
Alison Reid Wright, a noise expert who has worked with British orchestras on noise reduction, says ensembles already are considering how to readjust their programs to conform with the directive.
"They wouldn't take a large noisy piece to a small venue," she said. "And some orchestras have been trying to balance the noise by offsetting a very powerful piece by less powerful pieces."
Others, she said, might follow the example of an Australian opera orchestra, which decided a few years ago to use "one set of musicians for the first half and another set for the second half" to protect their hearing.
Still others have begun modifying orchestra pits with acoustic paneling that absorbs some of the sound level without interfering with the clarity of the music for ensemble members. There are ear plugs and protective plastic panels that shield individuals near the brass or percussion section.
Such aids were used even before the directive was conceived. Trumpets push out 110 decibels during peak parts of Wagner's Ring Cycle, tubas 110 and trombones 108.
Even violins have registered 109 decibels. And a flute at peak level near the right ear logs 118 decibels -- substantially above the noise of a power drill heard close up.
The problem lies with some musicians. Many refuse to wear adequate ear protection, claiming it interferes with their ability to play. And some are reluctant to use shields.
"I don't like you and I don't like the noise you make so I am putting my screen behind me to protect myself from you," said Reid Wright, explaining the negative vibes sent by such devices.
Another difficulty is how to measure exposure. Orchestras can produce peak sound levels substantially above the new EU limit while playing much below it at other times.
And there are few "typical" work days. While pre-concert rehearsals can stretch from morning to evening, typical performances last little more than three hours. "Then, there are the musicians who are more prone to overexposure" -- typically strings sitting in front of brasses, said Josef Kerschhagel at Austria's Ministry of Labor, which will enforce the decree. He said his department will likely have to monitor orchestras randomly and over a week's time to be able to average out levels.
Kerschhagel says all monitoring will be unobtrusive.
But many musicians are critical, saying any attempt to regulate sound levels trespasses on artistic freedom.
"Do you need the nanny state to step in and say, 'No, you cannot play the bass drum fortissimo in the Verdi Requiem?'," asked bass trombonist Douglas Yeo of the Boston Philharmonic.
Contrabassist Michael Bladerer of the Vienna Philharmonic said his orchestra is "a private organization, and we will do what we want to."
Vienna State Opera director Ioan Holender noted that comparing noise and beautiful sound is like not differentiating between "weeds and the most beautiful blossoms."
And for veterans like Pesek, the Czech conductor, the decree comes too late. "We're all deaf anyway," he said.
Music stars, masses mourn Pavarotti
MODENA, Italy (AP) -- Luciano Pavarotti's voice rang out a final time Saturday inside Modena's cathedral, as a recording of the great tenor singing with his father highlighted a funeral attended by family, dignitaries and close friends.
Guests gave the tenor one last standing ovation when "Panis Angelicus," the 1978 duet Pavarotti sang with his father, Fernando, inside Modena's Duomo came to a close.
The duet was one of the most poignant moments of the funeral, which began with a moving rendition of Verdi's "Ave Maria" and a message of condolences from Pope Benedict XVI saying Pavarotti had "honored the divine gift of music through his extraordinary interpretative talent."
Thousands watched the invitation-only service from a huge television screen erected in Modena's main piazza, where a recording of the tenor's most famous works had boomed out during two days of public viewing.
Italy's air force precision flying team flew over the cathedral at the end of the service, releasing red, white and green smoke in the colors of the Italian flag.
Pavarotti's white maple casket, covered in sunflowers -- his favorite -- lay before the altar during the service, with his wife, Nicoletta Mantovani, looking on. Sitting nearby were Pavarotti's three daughters from his first marriage.
Also on hand were the Italian premier, Romano Prodi, U2 lead singer Bono, film director Franco Zeffirelli and former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan. Also invited were Stephane Lissner, general manager of Milan's La Scala Opera House, where Pavarotti appeared 140 times, once receiving boos; and the Metropolitan Opera's former general manager Joe Volpe.
A message from Pavarotti's 4-year-old daughter, Alice, was read out during the service as Mantovani sobbed.
"Papa, you have loved me so much, I know you will always protect me. I will hold you dear to my child's heart every tomorrow," it said.
Pavarotti died on Thursday in his home on Modena's outskirts after battling pancreatic cancer for more than a year. He was 71 and was beloved by generations of opera-goers and pop fans alike for his breathtaking high "Cs" and his hearty renditions of folk songs like "O Sole Mio," and popular tunes like "My Way."
Tenor Andrea Bocelli sang Mozart's "Ave Verum Corpus" while the Rossini Chorus performed hymns throughout the service, which was celebrated by Modena Archbishop Benito Cocchi and 18 other priests.
Bulgarian-born soprano Raina Kabaivanska, a fellow Modena resident who had worked with Pavarotti, cried as she sang the "Ave Maria" from Verdi's "Otello" as the ceremony began. Flautist Andrea Griminelli played the "Dance of the Blessed Spirits" from Gluck's "Orfeo e Euridice."
Cocchi said the presence of so many dignitaries at the funeral was a sign "of the esteem, of the affection and of the gratitude that universally surrounds the great artist."
Don't Miss
But he said it was also significant how local Modenese had rendered homage to their native son, applauding out of respect when Pavarotti's casket was brought to the cathedral on Thursday for public viewing.
The applause, he said, "was not joyous as in other occasions, but intense and sincere."
"The death of Luciano Pavarotti has made us feel more impoverished," he said. "The maestro was and will always be a symbol for our city."
Modena city officials estimated that roughly 100,000 people viewed Pavarotti's body over two days.
"Modena is known for its cappelletti (a type of tortellini), balsamic vinegar, Ferrari and Pavarotti. It's a collection of important things that Modena has given to the world," said Susy Cavallini, a 43-year-old Modena resident as she emerged Saturday from the cathedral.
The tenor was to be buried in Montale Rangone cemetery, near Modena, where members of his family, including his parents and stillborn son Riccardo, are buried.
Pavarotti's classical career, with his imposing presence, emotional depth and boyish, charming ease all adding to his technical prowess, was the stuff of opera legend. But his legacy reached beyond the opera houses to reach the masses, working with fellow opera stars and pop icons alike.
These far-from-the-opera house performances, including memorable nights under the stars at Rome's ancient Baths of Caracalla with Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo, in the "Three Tenors" concert, rescued musical art from highbrow obscurity.
Pavarotti was the best-selling classical artist, with more than 100 million records sold since the 1960s, and he had the first classical album to reach No. 1 on the pop charts.
That Pavarotti -- a divorced man who had a child out of wedlock -- was given public viewing and a funeral in the cathedral spurred some debate here. A Modena parish priest, the Rev. Giorgio Bellei, told Corriere della Sera that the move amounted to "profanation of the temple." Other critics noted that last year the church refused to grant a religious funeral to a paralyzed man who had a doctor disconnect his respirator.
Funeral director Gianni Gibellini said Bellei should have "kept his mouth sewn shut" and Archbishop Cocchi appeared to address the issue, saying "Pavarotti, with a faith that he never repudiated or hid and which he expressed consistently with his singing, is no stranger in this cathedral."
Guests gave the tenor one last standing ovation when "Panis Angelicus," the 1978 duet Pavarotti sang with his father, Fernando, inside Modena's Duomo came to a close.
The duet was one of the most poignant moments of the funeral, which began with a moving rendition of Verdi's "Ave Maria" and a message of condolences from Pope Benedict XVI saying Pavarotti had "honored the divine gift of music through his extraordinary interpretative talent."
Thousands watched the invitation-only service from a huge television screen erected in Modena's main piazza, where a recording of the tenor's most famous works had boomed out during two days of public viewing.
Italy's air force precision flying team flew over the cathedral at the end of the service, releasing red, white and green smoke in the colors of the Italian flag.
Pavarotti's white maple casket, covered in sunflowers -- his favorite -- lay before the altar during the service, with his wife, Nicoletta Mantovani, looking on. Sitting nearby were Pavarotti's three daughters from his first marriage.
Also on hand were the Italian premier, Romano Prodi, U2 lead singer Bono, film director Franco Zeffirelli and former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan. Also invited were Stephane Lissner, general manager of Milan's La Scala Opera House, where Pavarotti appeared 140 times, once receiving boos; and the Metropolitan Opera's former general manager Joe Volpe.
A message from Pavarotti's 4-year-old daughter, Alice, was read out during the service as Mantovani sobbed.
"Papa, you have loved me so much, I know you will always protect me. I will hold you dear to my child's heart every tomorrow," it said.
Pavarotti died on Thursday in his home on Modena's outskirts after battling pancreatic cancer for more than a year. He was 71 and was beloved by generations of opera-goers and pop fans alike for his breathtaking high "Cs" and his hearty renditions of folk songs like "O Sole Mio," and popular tunes like "My Way."
Tenor Andrea Bocelli sang Mozart's "Ave Verum Corpus" while the Rossini Chorus performed hymns throughout the service, which was celebrated by Modena Archbishop Benito Cocchi and 18 other priests.
Bulgarian-born soprano Raina Kabaivanska, a fellow Modena resident who had worked with Pavarotti, cried as she sang the "Ave Maria" from Verdi's "Otello" as the ceremony began. Flautist Andrea Griminelli played the "Dance of the Blessed Spirits" from Gluck's "Orfeo e Euridice."
Cocchi said the presence of so many dignitaries at the funeral was a sign "of the esteem, of the affection and of the gratitude that universally surrounds the great artist."
Don't Miss
But he said it was also significant how local Modenese had rendered homage to their native son, applauding out of respect when Pavarotti's casket was brought to the cathedral on Thursday for public viewing.
The applause, he said, "was not joyous as in other occasions, but intense and sincere."
"The death of Luciano Pavarotti has made us feel more impoverished," he said. "The maestro was and will always be a symbol for our city."
Modena city officials estimated that roughly 100,000 people viewed Pavarotti's body over two days.
"Modena is known for its cappelletti (a type of tortellini), balsamic vinegar, Ferrari and Pavarotti. It's a collection of important things that Modena has given to the world," said Susy Cavallini, a 43-year-old Modena resident as she emerged Saturday from the cathedral.
The tenor was to be buried in Montale Rangone cemetery, near Modena, where members of his family, including his parents and stillborn son Riccardo, are buried.
Pavarotti's classical career, with his imposing presence, emotional depth and boyish, charming ease all adding to his technical prowess, was the stuff of opera legend. But his legacy reached beyond the opera houses to reach the masses, working with fellow opera stars and pop icons alike.
These far-from-the-opera house performances, including memorable nights under the stars at Rome's ancient Baths of Caracalla with Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo, in the "Three Tenors" concert, rescued musical art from highbrow obscurity.
Pavarotti was the best-selling classical artist, with more than 100 million records sold since the 1960s, and he had the first classical album to reach No. 1 on the pop charts.
That Pavarotti -- a divorced man who had a child out of wedlock -- was given public viewing and a funeral in the cathedral spurred some debate here. A Modena parish priest, the Rev. Giorgio Bellei, told Corriere della Sera that the move amounted to "profanation of the temple." Other critics noted that last year the church refused to grant a religious funeral to a paralyzed man who had a doctor disconnect his respirator.
Funeral director Gianni Gibellini said Bellei should have "kept his mouth sewn shut" and Archbishop Cocchi appeared to address the issue, saying "Pavarotti, with a faith that he never repudiated or hid and which he expressed consistently with his singing, is no stranger in this cathedral."
Lackluster Britney Spears kicks off MTV awards
LAS VEGAS, Nevada (AP) -- Somewhere, Kevin Federline is laughing. An out-of-shape, out-of-touch Britney Spears delivered what was destined to be the most talked-about performance of the MTV Video Music Awards -- but for all the wrong reasons.
Kicking off the show Sunday night with her new single, "Gimme More," Spears looked bleary and unprepared, much like her recent tabloid exploits on the streets of Los Angeles.
She walked through her dance moves with little enthusiasm. It appeared she had forgotten the entire art of lip-synching. And, perhaps most unforgivable given her once-taut frame, she looked embarrassingly out of shape.
Even the celebrity-studded audience seemed bewildered. 50 Cent looked at Spears with a confused expression; Diddy, her new best friend, was expressionless.
Some comeback.
The VMAs was hoping to reinvent itself on Sunday. After suffering poor reviews and a decline in ratings over the last few years,MTV moved the show to Las Vegas' Palms Casino, shortened the show from three hours to two, and changed the show's setup to focus more on performances than awards.
To that end, Justin Timberlake and Timbaland, Kanye West, Fall Out Boy and the Foo Fighters were each hosting four separate suite parties, where much of the show's performances would be held.
Thankfully, after Spears' dismal start and a lukewarm intro by comedian Sarah Silverman, the show rebounded. Timberlake's suite was packed with revelers, alcohol and eight lingerie-clad stripper types on raised platforms. Before he accepted the Quadruple Threat of the Year award at his suite, the DJ summoned the partygoers to watch the monitor and go crazy if Timberlake won.
He did, they did, and Timberlake said: "I want to challenge MTV to play more videos!"
Then he was whisked away by bodyguards and disappeared. He later won male artist of the year, and hit home on that point: "We don't want to see the Simpsons on reality television" -- apparently he's not a fan of either Jessica or Ashlee's MTV shows.
Meanwhile, Rihanna won Monster Single of the Year for her ubiquitous hit "Umbrella," and Beyonce and Shakira won Most Earthshattering Collaboration for "Beautiful Liar."
Beyonce's shimmering gold dress barely contained her top; immediately after she picked up her trophy, she asked an assistant backstage to help fix her dress, apparently to prevent a wardrobe malfunction.
Other performers were appearing on the show's main stage, in front of an industry-only audience seated at tables, like at the Golden Globes.
Chris Brown gave one of the evening's most extravagant performances -- a dance-centric, eye-popping spectacle that channeled Michael Jackson, right down to a brief "Billie Jean" imitation. Later, he was joined by Rihanna, who performed her monster single.
While Spears' performance was a showcase, others were delivered in snippets: Akon crooned a bit of his "Smack That" before an award was announced, while the cameras zoomed in on performances from Fall Out Boy and the Foo Fighters mid-performance in their suites, giving viewers the sense that they had happened upon an intimate concert.
Cee-Lo delivered a rocking version of Prince's naughty classic "Darling Nikki" in the Foo Fighters suite; Soulja Boy was showing Kanye West his "Crank That" dance in West's suite.
Timberlake and Timbaland's joint suite looked like the most exciting -- T.I., buffeted by pole dancers, delivered a rousing version of "Big Things Poppin"' while 50 Cent stopped by to perform "Ayo Technology" with Timberlake and Timbaland.
Not to be outdone, T-Pain and West danced high atop Las Vegas in one of the Palms' balcony suites as celebrated "The Good Life." And Lil Wayne, doing double duty in the Fall Out Boy suite, was particularly animated during their joint performance.
But the TV audience never got full views of those performances, though the network promised viewers more via its Web site and other "remixed" versions of the show.
That might have been the purpose -- to whet the audiences appetite for repeat viewings by promising glimpses of what they missed during the traditional broadcast
Kicking off the show Sunday night with her new single, "Gimme More," Spears looked bleary and unprepared, much like her recent tabloid exploits on the streets of Los Angeles.
She walked through her dance moves with little enthusiasm. It appeared she had forgotten the entire art of lip-synching. And, perhaps most unforgivable given her once-taut frame, she looked embarrassingly out of shape.
Even the celebrity-studded audience seemed bewildered. 50 Cent looked at Spears with a confused expression; Diddy, her new best friend, was expressionless.
Some comeback.
The VMAs was hoping to reinvent itself on Sunday. After suffering poor reviews and a decline in ratings over the last few years,MTV moved the show to Las Vegas' Palms Casino, shortened the show from three hours to two, and changed the show's setup to focus more on performances than awards.
To that end, Justin Timberlake and Timbaland, Kanye West, Fall Out Boy and the Foo Fighters were each hosting four separate suite parties, where much of the show's performances would be held.
Thankfully, after Spears' dismal start and a lukewarm intro by comedian Sarah Silverman, the show rebounded. Timberlake's suite was packed with revelers, alcohol and eight lingerie-clad stripper types on raised platforms. Before he accepted the Quadruple Threat of the Year award at his suite, the DJ summoned the partygoers to watch the monitor and go crazy if Timberlake won.
He did, they did, and Timberlake said: "I want to challenge MTV to play more videos!"
Then he was whisked away by bodyguards and disappeared. He later won male artist of the year, and hit home on that point: "We don't want to see the Simpsons on reality television" -- apparently he's not a fan of either Jessica or Ashlee's MTV shows.
Meanwhile, Rihanna won Monster Single of the Year for her ubiquitous hit "Umbrella," and Beyonce and Shakira won Most Earthshattering Collaboration for "Beautiful Liar."
Beyonce's shimmering gold dress barely contained her top; immediately after she picked up her trophy, she asked an assistant backstage to help fix her dress, apparently to prevent a wardrobe malfunction.
Other performers were appearing on the show's main stage, in front of an industry-only audience seated at tables, like at the Golden Globes.
Chris Brown gave one of the evening's most extravagant performances -- a dance-centric, eye-popping spectacle that channeled Michael Jackson, right down to a brief "Billie Jean" imitation. Later, he was joined by Rihanna, who performed her monster single.
While Spears' performance was a showcase, others were delivered in snippets: Akon crooned a bit of his "Smack That" before an award was announced, while the cameras zoomed in on performances from Fall Out Boy and the Foo Fighters mid-performance in their suites, giving viewers the sense that they had happened upon an intimate concert.
Cee-Lo delivered a rocking version of Prince's naughty classic "Darling Nikki" in the Foo Fighters suite; Soulja Boy was showing Kanye West his "Crank That" dance in West's suite.
Timberlake and Timbaland's joint suite looked like the most exciting -- T.I., buffeted by pole dancers, delivered a rousing version of "Big Things Poppin"' while 50 Cent stopped by to perform "Ayo Technology" with Timberlake and Timbaland.
Not to be outdone, T-Pain and West danced high atop Las Vegas in one of the Palms' balcony suites as celebrated "The Good Life." And Lil Wayne, doing double duty in the Fall Out Boy suite, was particularly animated during their joint performance.
But the TV audience never got full views of those performances, though the network promised viewers more via its Web site and other "remixed" versions of the show.
That might have been the purpose -- to whet the audiences appetite for repeat viewings by promising glimpses of what they missed during the traditional broadcast
Music stars, masses mourn Pavarotti
MODENA, Italy (AP) -- Luciano Pavarotti's voice rang out a final time Saturday inside Modena's cathedral, as a recording of the great tenor singing with his father highlighted a funeral attended by family, dignitaries and close friends.
Guests gave the tenor one last standing ovation when "Panis Angelicus," the 1978 duet Pavarotti sang with his father, Fernando, inside Modena's Duomo came to a close.
The duet was one of the most poignant moments of the funeral, which began with a moving rendition of Verdi's "Ave Maria" and a message of condolences from Pope Benedict XVI saying Pavarotti had "honored the divine gift of music through his extraordinary interpretative talent."
Thousands watched the invitation-only service from a huge television screen erected in Modena's main piazza, where a recording of the tenor's most famous works had boomed out during two days of public viewing.
Italy's air force precision flying team flew over the cathedral at the end of the service, releasing red, white and green smoke in the colors of the Italian flag.
Pavarotti's white maple casket, covered in sunflowers -- his favorite -- lay before the altar during the service, with his wife, Nicoletta Mantovani, looking on. Sitting nearby were Pavarotti's three daughters from his first marriage.
Also on hand were the Italian premier, Romano Prodi, U2 lead singer Bono, film director Franco Zeffirelli and former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan. Also invited were Stephane Lissner, general manager of Milan's La Scala Opera House, where Pavarotti appeared 140 times, once receiving boos; and the Metropolitan Opera's former general manager Joe Volpe.
A message from Pavarotti's 4-year-old daughter, Alice, was read out during the service as Mantovani sobbed.
"Papa, you have loved me so much, I know you will always protect me. I will hold you dear to my child's heart every tomorrow," it said.
Pavarotti died on Thursday in his home on Modena's outskirts after battling pancreatic cancer for more than a year. He was 71 and was beloved by generations of opera-goers and pop fans alike for his breathtaking high "Cs" and his hearty renditions of folk songs like "O Sole Mio," and popular tunes like "My Way."
Tenor Andrea Bocelli sang Mozart's "Ave Verum Corpus" while the Rossini Chorus performed hymns throughout the service, which was celebrated by Modena Archbishop Benito Cocchi and 18 other priests.
Bulgarian-born soprano Raina Kabaivanska, a fellow Modena resident who had worked with Pavarotti, cried as she sang the "Ave Maria" from Verdi's "Otello" as the ceremony began. Flautist Andrea Griminelli played the "Dance of the Blessed Spirits" from Gluck's "Orfeo e Euridice."
Cocchi said the presence of so many dignitaries at the funeral was a sign "of the esteem, of the affection and of the gratitude that universally surrounds the great artist."
Don't Miss
But he said it was also significant how local Modenese had rendered homage to their native son, applauding out of respect when Pavarotti's casket was brought to the cathedral on Thursday for public viewing.
The applause, he said, "was not joyous as in other occasions, but intense and sincere."
"The death of Luciano Pavarotti has made us feel more impoverished," he said. "The maestro was and will always be a symbol for our city."
Modena city officials estimated that roughly 100,000 people viewed Pavarotti's body over two days.
"Modena is known for its cappelletti (a type of tortellini), balsamic vinegar, Ferrari and Pavarotti. It's a collection of important things that Modena has given to the world," said Susy Cavallini, a 43-year-old Modena resident as she emerged Saturday from the cathedral.
The tenor was to be buried in Montale Rangone cemetery, near Modena, where members of his family, including his parents and stillborn son Riccardo, are buried.
Pavarotti's classical career, with his imposing presence, emotional depth and boyish, charming ease all adding to his technical prowess, was the stuff of opera legend. But his legacy reached beyond the opera houses to reach the masses, working with fellow opera stars and pop icons alike.
These far-from-the-opera house performances, including memorable nights under the stars at Rome's ancient Baths of Caracalla with Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo, in the "Three Tenors" concert, rescued musical art from highbrow obscurity.
Pavarotti was the best-selling classical artist, with more than 100 million records sold since the 1960s, and he had the first classical album to reach No. 1 on the pop charts.
That Pavarotti -- a divorced man who had a child out of wedlock -- was given public viewing and a funeral in the cathedral spurred some debate here. A Modena parish priest, the Rev. Giorgio Bellei, told Corriere della Sera that the move amounted to "profanation of the temple." Other critics noted that last year the church refused to grant a religious funeral to a paralyzed man who had a doctor disconnect his respirator.
Funeral director Gianni Gibellini said Bellei should have "kept his mouth sewn shut" and Archbishop Cocchi appeared to address the issue, saying "Pavarotti, with a faith that he never repudiated or hid and which he expressed consistently with his singing, is no stranger in this cathedral."
Guests gave the tenor one last standing ovation when "Panis Angelicus," the 1978 duet Pavarotti sang with his father, Fernando, inside Modena's Duomo came to a close.
The duet was one of the most poignant moments of the funeral, which began with a moving rendition of Verdi's "Ave Maria" and a message of condolences from Pope Benedict XVI saying Pavarotti had "honored the divine gift of music through his extraordinary interpretative talent."
Thousands watched the invitation-only service from a huge television screen erected in Modena's main piazza, where a recording of the tenor's most famous works had boomed out during two days of public viewing.
Italy's air force precision flying team flew over the cathedral at the end of the service, releasing red, white and green smoke in the colors of the Italian flag.
Pavarotti's white maple casket, covered in sunflowers -- his favorite -- lay before the altar during the service, with his wife, Nicoletta Mantovani, looking on. Sitting nearby were Pavarotti's three daughters from his first marriage.
Also on hand were the Italian premier, Romano Prodi, U2 lead singer Bono, film director Franco Zeffirelli and former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan. Also invited were Stephane Lissner, general manager of Milan's La Scala Opera House, where Pavarotti appeared 140 times, once receiving boos; and the Metropolitan Opera's former general manager Joe Volpe.
A message from Pavarotti's 4-year-old daughter, Alice, was read out during the service as Mantovani sobbed.
"Papa, you have loved me so much, I know you will always protect me. I will hold you dear to my child's heart every tomorrow," it said.
Pavarotti died on Thursday in his home on Modena's outskirts after battling pancreatic cancer for more than a year. He was 71 and was beloved by generations of opera-goers and pop fans alike for his breathtaking high "Cs" and his hearty renditions of folk songs like "O Sole Mio," and popular tunes like "My Way."
Tenor Andrea Bocelli sang Mozart's "Ave Verum Corpus" while the Rossini Chorus performed hymns throughout the service, which was celebrated by Modena Archbishop Benito Cocchi and 18 other priests.
Bulgarian-born soprano Raina Kabaivanska, a fellow Modena resident who had worked with Pavarotti, cried as she sang the "Ave Maria" from Verdi's "Otello" as the ceremony began. Flautist Andrea Griminelli played the "Dance of the Blessed Spirits" from Gluck's "Orfeo e Euridice."
Cocchi said the presence of so many dignitaries at the funeral was a sign "of the esteem, of the affection and of the gratitude that universally surrounds the great artist."
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But he said it was also significant how local Modenese had rendered homage to their native son, applauding out of respect when Pavarotti's casket was brought to the cathedral on Thursday for public viewing.
The applause, he said, "was not joyous as in other occasions, but intense and sincere."
"The death of Luciano Pavarotti has made us feel more impoverished," he said. "The maestro was and will always be a symbol for our city."
Modena city officials estimated that roughly 100,000 people viewed Pavarotti's body over two days.
"Modena is known for its cappelletti (a type of tortellini), balsamic vinegar, Ferrari and Pavarotti. It's a collection of important things that Modena has given to the world," said Susy Cavallini, a 43-year-old Modena resident as she emerged Saturday from the cathedral.
The tenor was to be buried in Montale Rangone cemetery, near Modena, where members of his family, including his parents and stillborn son Riccardo, are buried.
Pavarotti's classical career, with his imposing presence, emotional depth and boyish, charming ease all adding to his technical prowess, was the stuff of opera legend. But his legacy reached beyond the opera houses to reach the masses, working with fellow opera stars and pop icons alike.
These far-from-the-opera house performances, including memorable nights under the stars at Rome's ancient Baths of Caracalla with Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo, in the "Three Tenors" concert, rescued musical art from highbrow obscurity.
Pavarotti was the best-selling classical artist, with more than 100 million records sold since the 1960s, and he had the first classical album to reach No. 1 on the pop charts.
That Pavarotti -- a divorced man who had a child out of wedlock -- was given public viewing and a funeral in the cathedral spurred some debate here. A Modena parish priest, the Rev. Giorgio Bellei, told Corriere della Sera that the move amounted to "profanation of the temple." Other critics noted that last year the church refused to grant a religious funeral to a paralyzed man who had a doctor disconnect his respirator.
Funeral director Gianni Gibellini said Bellei should have "kept his mouth sewn shut" and Archbishop Cocchi appeared to address the issue, saying "Pavarotti, with a faith that he never repudiated or hid and which he expressed consistently with his singing, is no stranger in this cathedral."
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
I was always a pretty bad celebrity.
NEWPORT, Rhode Island (AP) -- Drummer Jack DeJohnette had some fun with his jazz musician friends by asking them to guess who's playing piano with him on a fast-paced version of John Coltrane's "Giant Steps."
"I had people saying Cedar Walton, Kenny Barron. ... They would keep trying to guess and I'd say 'No,' " DeJohnette laughed backstage at the recent Newport Jazz Festival. "They were quite surprised when I told them -- Bruce Hornsby."
But anyone who has closely followed the 52-year-old Hornsby's career wouldn't be too surprised to find he has finally released his first full-length jazz instrumental album. "Camp Meeting," a trio recording with DeJohnette and bassist Christian McBride, offers new versions of jazz standards by Miles Davis, Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk as well as several Hornsby originals.
Hornsby graduated from the University of Miami with a degree in jazz before deciding songwriting was more to his liking. His 1980s pop hits "The Way It Is" and "The Valley Road" had jazz-influenced piano solos. He later collaborated on recordings with such jazz stars as guitarist Pat Metheny ("Harbor Lights") and saxophonist Wayne Shorter ("The End of the Innocence," written with Don Henley).
Hornsby sat down for an interview with the AP after performing on the main stage at the Newport festival.
Q: Earlier this year you released a bluegrass album with Ricky Skaggs and now you've got your first jazz CD. What's the connection?
BRUCE HORNSBY: I've always had a lot of interest in jazz and bluegrass. Most people would say, "Wow, they don't have anything in common!" But to me ... they're both about virtuosity on the instrument. If you've heard Ricky Skaggs' band, they're incredible players. I'm interested in writing songs and singing them well, but I'm also interested in the instrument.
Q: What encouraged you to record "Camp Meeting"?
HORNSBY: Pat Metheny really prodded me to do it. He was playing a concert with the University of Virginia jazz orchestra about five years ago. I went up there because we're good friends and he asked me to sit in. We did (Miles Davis') "Solar," and he said, "You have your own way of doing this, you should make this record." Then I ran into Jack in 2005 at the Keith Jarrett trio date at Carnegie Hall. He said what he always says to me: "Hey, when are we doing to do something?" And Christian has always said that through the years.
Q: What did you do to get ready to record the CD?
HORNSBY: What's become my standard analogy is imagine you took six years of French ... and you could speak it pretty well. But then you didn't speak it for years, so you lose it. And then you get hired to be the French translator at the U.N. ... You're going to have to hit the woodshed pretty hard and that's what I've been trying to do.
Q: What was it like playing alongside two jazz heavyweights?
HORNSBY: It was very stressful because these guys are giants of the music and together they've played with most every great jazz musician that you've heard of. That's a daunting situation. You have to prove yourself every step along the way and if you can't stand that heat get the hell out of the boiler room. I think they started being more impressed with what I was doing playing-wise and liked the conception of the different tunes.
Q: How did you choose jazz standards like Thelonious Monk's "Straight, No Chaser" or Bud Powell's "Celia" for the CD?
HORNSBY: I only recorded something that I thought I could find an interesting take on that was my own. ... that gave it a reason for being played again. I remember Jack and Christian saying, "Do we really have to play 'Straight, No Chaser'?" I understand why they said that -- it's sort of a club date jazz tune, so overdone, it's sort of like the "Proud Mary" of the jazz canon. But I said, "Look, I have an odd way of playing it. If you like it we'll play it, if you don't we won't." I played it for them. ... it was sort of a pointillistic version, and they went, "Oh, very fresh."
Q: Could you talk about some of the compositions you wrote for the session?
HORNSBY: The first tune I did today (at Newport) was "Charlie, Woody and You." Dave Brubeck loved it. He came up to me and said, "What was that Charles Ives thing -- that's right up my alley. It's the most out blues I've ever heard." There's this Ives piece that I've played called "Study No. 22" and there's this real thorny, knotty, chromatic dissonant bit that I love. I used the harmonic language of the Ives bit as my musical material to solo with. Part of the melody of "Stacked Mary Possum" is from an old fiddle tune "Black Berry Blossom."
Q: How do you feel about the reaction to "Camp Meeting"?
HORNSBY: Overall ... the reaction has been shock and surprise on lots of levels. I would think that anybody who hears this would know that ... that I've certainly spent some time with this music on a deep level. I've had a couple of writers liken this to when Rod Stewart made his standards records. That's a very clueless statement because this is the opposite of that. That's a commercial ploy a lot of people have used in the past several years. ... It's sort of modern-day Muzak that goes down real easy for the old yuppie audience. I start off with an (Ornette Coleman) tune that's so angular. "Death and the Flower" is a pretty obscure Keith Jarrett tune. ... Why would they liken that to someone's pop standards record?
Q: Do you miss pop stardom at all?
HORNSBY: I was always a pretty bad celebrity. My thing is personally pretty boring. I've been married to the same woman for almost 24 years and I have twin boys. I'm just an old family guy. The best part about those pop stardom years was the respect that I got and all the subsequent calls I got from all these great musicians because they were fans of what I did. It opened me up and broadened my horizons and to this day it continues.
"I had people saying Cedar Walton, Kenny Barron. ... They would keep trying to guess and I'd say 'No,' " DeJohnette laughed backstage at the recent Newport Jazz Festival. "They were quite surprised when I told them -- Bruce Hornsby."
But anyone who has closely followed the 52-year-old Hornsby's career wouldn't be too surprised to find he has finally released his first full-length jazz instrumental album. "Camp Meeting," a trio recording with DeJohnette and bassist Christian McBride, offers new versions of jazz standards by Miles Davis, Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk as well as several Hornsby originals.
Hornsby graduated from the University of Miami with a degree in jazz before deciding songwriting was more to his liking. His 1980s pop hits "The Way It Is" and "The Valley Road" had jazz-influenced piano solos. He later collaborated on recordings with such jazz stars as guitarist Pat Metheny ("Harbor Lights") and saxophonist Wayne Shorter ("The End of the Innocence," written with Don Henley).
Hornsby sat down for an interview with the AP after performing on the main stage at the Newport festival.
Q: Earlier this year you released a bluegrass album with Ricky Skaggs and now you've got your first jazz CD. What's the connection?
BRUCE HORNSBY: I've always had a lot of interest in jazz and bluegrass. Most people would say, "Wow, they don't have anything in common!" But to me ... they're both about virtuosity on the instrument. If you've heard Ricky Skaggs' band, they're incredible players. I'm interested in writing songs and singing them well, but I'm also interested in the instrument.
Q: What encouraged you to record "Camp Meeting"?
HORNSBY: Pat Metheny really prodded me to do it. He was playing a concert with the University of Virginia jazz orchestra about five years ago. I went up there because we're good friends and he asked me to sit in. We did (Miles Davis') "Solar," and he said, "You have your own way of doing this, you should make this record." Then I ran into Jack in 2005 at the Keith Jarrett trio date at Carnegie Hall. He said what he always says to me: "Hey, when are we doing to do something?" And Christian has always said that through the years.
Q: What did you do to get ready to record the CD?
HORNSBY: What's become my standard analogy is imagine you took six years of French ... and you could speak it pretty well. But then you didn't speak it for years, so you lose it. And then you get hired to be the French translator at the U.N. ... You're going to have to hit the woodshed pretty hard and that's what I've been trying to do.
Q: What was it like playing alongside two jazz heavyweights?
HORNSBY: It was very stressful because these guys are giants of the music and together they've played with most every great jazz musician that you've heard of. That's a daunting situation. You have to prove yourself every step along the way and if you can't stand that heat get the hell out of the boiler room. I think they started being more impressed with what I was doing playing-wise and liked the conception of the different tunes.
Q: How did you choose jazz standards like Thelonious Monk's "Straight, No Chaser" or Bud Powell's "Celia" for the CD?
HORNSBY: I only recorded something that I thought I could find an interesting take on that was my own. ... that gave it a reason for being played again. I remember Jack and Christian saying, "Do we really have to play 'Straight, No Chaser'?" I understand why they said that -- it's sort of a club date jazz tune, so overdone, it's sort of like the "Proud Mary" of the jazz canon. But I said, "Look, I have an odd way of playing it. If you like it we'll play it, if you don't we won't." I played it for them. ... it was sort of a pointillistic version, and they went, "Oh, very fresh."
Q: Could you talk about some of the compositions you wrote for the session?
HORNSBY: The first tune I did today (at Newport) was "Charlie, Woody and You." Dave Brubeck loved it. He came up to me and said, "What was that Charles Ives thing -- that's right up my alley. It's the most out blues I've ever heard." There's this Ives piece that I've played called "Study No. 22" and there's this real thorny, knotty, chromatic dissonant bit that I love. I used the harmonic language of the Ives bit as my musical material to solo with. Part of the melody of "Stacked Mary Possum" is from an old fiddle tune "Black Berry Blossom."
Q: How do you feel about the reaction to "Camp Meeting"?
HORNSBY: Overall ... the reaction has been shock and surprise on lots of levels. I would think that anybody who hears this would know that ... that I've certainly spent some time with this music on a deep level. I've had a couple of writers liken this to when Rod Stewart made his standards records. That's a very clueless statement because this is the opposite of that. That's a commercial ploy a lot of people have used in the past several years. ... It's sort of modern-day Muzak that goes down real easy for the old yuppie audience. I start off with an (Ornette Coleman) tune that's so angular. "Death and the Flower" is a pretty obscure Keith Jarrett tune. ... Why would they liken that to someone's pop standards record?
Q: Do you miss pop stardom at all?
HORNSBY: I was always a pretty bad celebrity. My thing is personally pretty boring. I've been married to the same woman for almost 24 years and I have twin boys. I'm just an old family guy. The best part about those pop stardom years was the respect that I got and all the subsequent calls I got from all these great musicians because they were fans of what I did. It opened me up and broadened my horizons and to this day it continues.
Kidman: I was engaged between Cruise, Urban
NEW YORK (AP) -- Nicole Kidman says she was engaged to a mystery man in between breaking up with Tom Cruise and marrying Keith Urban.
"I didn't really want a relationship," the 40-year-old actress says. "I just wanted my kids to have me, and I didn't feel comfortable having some person in that small hubbub."
"And then I got engaged to somebody ... but it just wasn't right," she continues in Vanity Fair magazine's October issue, on newsstands September 11. "I wasn't ready. We weren't ready."
Details, please.
"I get engaged and I get married -- that's my thing," she says, declining to reveal her former fiance's identity. "I don't want to date. I'm interested in a very, very deep connection."
Kidman and Cruise divorced in 2001 after 10 years of marriage. They have two adopted children, Isabella, 14, and Connor, 12; Cruise has a 1-year-old daughter, Suri, with actress-wife Katie Holmes.
Kidman, who married country singer Urban in June 2006, says she has no regrets when it comes to her marriage to Cruise.
"My agents told me, 'Once you become Mrs. Tom Cruise, you do know your career is going to die,' " says Kidman, who won an Oscar for her portrayal of Virginia Woolf in 2002's "The Hours."
"I was appalled," she says. "I was like, 'Hello? I'm in love, and I don't care if it's shooting myself in the foot. I'd much rather be married and have a family.' "
The couple "lost a baby early on, so that was really very traumatic," she says. "And that's when it came that we would adopt Bella."
Cryptically, she adds: "There's a complicated background to that, given that I never speak much about many things. One day maybe that story will be told."
Kidman hopes to have a baby with Urban.
"I'm yearning to have one," she says. "I think I would be very sad if I wasn't able to have a baby. Keith knows I want one, and he has been getting there slowly."
"I didn't really want a relationship," the 40-year-old actress says. "I just wanted my kids to have me, and I didn't feel comfortable having some person in that small hubbub."
"And then I got engaged to somebody ... but it just wasn't right," she continues in Vanity Fair magazine's October issue, on newsstands September 11. "I wasn't ready. We weren't ready."
Details, please.
"I get engaged and I get married -- that's my thing," she says, declining to reveal her former fiance's identity. "I don't want to date. I'm interested in a very, very deep connection."
Kidman and Cruise divorced in 2001 after 10 years of marriage. They have two adopted children, Isabella, 14, and Connor, 12; Cruise has a 1-year-old daughter, Suri, with actress-wife Katie Holmes.
Kidman, who married country singer Urban in June 2006, says she has no regrets when it comes to her marriage to Cruise.
"My agents told me, 'Once you become Mrs. Tom Cruise, you do know your career is going to die,' " says Kidman, who won an Oscar for her portrayal of Virginia Woolf in 2002's "The Hours."
"I was appalled," she says. "I was like, 'Hello? I'm in love, and I don't care if it's shooting myself in the foot. I'd much rather be married and have a family.' "
The couple "lost a baby early on, so that was really very traumatic," she says. "And that's when it came that we would adopt Bella."
Cryptically, she adds: "There's a complicated background to that, given that I never speak much about many things. One day maybe that story will be told."
Kidman hopes to have a baby with Urban.
"I'm yearning to have one," she says. "I think I would be very sad if I wasn't able to have a baby. Keith knows I want one, and he has been getting there slowly."
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