Watch Leonard Bernstein Conduct the Vienna Philharmonic Using Only His Eyebrows

Per­haps you’ll recall the episode from Sein­feld when Bob Cobb, a con­duc­tor for The Police Orches­tra, insists that every­one call him “mae­stro”–and only “mae­stro.” The pre­ten­tious­ness of the sug­ges­tion makes for some good com­e­dy, that’s for sure.

But occa­sion­al­ly the hon­orif­ic title is fit­ting. Here’s one such instance. Above, watch Leonard Bern­stein con­duct the Vien­na Phil­har­mon­ic Orches­tra, lead­ing them through Haydn’s Sym­pho­ny No. 88 … with only his eye­brows and small facial ges­tures. No baton, thank you. A mae­stro indeed.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Leonard Bernstein’s Mas­ter­ful Lec­tures on Music (11+ Hours of Video Record­ed at Har­vard in 1973)

Hear What is Jazz?: Leonard Bernstein’s Intro­duc­tion to the Great Amer­i­can Art Form (1956)

Leonard Bern­stein Demys­ti­fies the Rock Rev­o­lu­tion for Curi­ous (if Square) Grown-Ups in 1967

Bach’s Most Famous Organ Piece Played on Wine Glasses

Robert Tiso takes stemmed wine glass­es and turns them into a mag­i­cal musi­cal instrument–or what he calls the “glass harp.” As his web­site explains, “each glass is tuned by adding a pre­cise amount of water (watch a tuto­r­i­al here), while the sound is pro­duced by rub­bing the fin­ger­tips around the rims, sim­u­lat­ing the fric­tion of a vio­lin bow.” Above you can watch him play Bach’s “Toc­ca­ta and Fugue in D minor” (BWV 565), the free sheet music for which you can find here. And if you head over to Tiso’s YouTube chan­nel, you can watch him tack­le Rav­el, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Pachel­bel, and much more. Enjoy.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via @WFMU

Relat­ed Con­tent:

All of Bach is Putting Bach’s Com­plete Works Online: 150 Done, 930 to Come

Down­load the Com­plete Organ Works of J.S. Bach for Free

JS Bach’s The Well-Tem­pered Clavier Artis­ti­cal­ly Ani­mat­ed with Puls­ing Neon Lights

Down­load the Com­plete Organ Works of J.S. Bach for Free

Hamilton’s Lin-Manuel Miranda Creates a Playlist of Protest Music for Our Troubled Times

Pho­to by Steve Jurvet­son, via Flickr Com­mons

In 1992 Ice‑T’s met­al band Body Count mas­tered the art of shock pol­i­tics when the song “Cop Killer” put them “at the cen­tre of a nation­al out­rage.” But their polit­i­cal feroc­i­ty may have seemed much dimin­ished when, in 2015, they released a tongue-in-cheek update of Sui­ci­dal Ten­den­cies’ “Insti­tu­tion­al­ized” in which Ice‑T rails against his wife, bad tech sup­port, and an inter­rupt­ed ham sand­wich while on the set of Law & Order.

The past year’s events have jolt­ed Body Count back into fight­ing form. Their recent release “No Lives Mat­ter” com­bines top­i­cal social cri­tique with “Cop Killer”-style con­fronta­tion in a pum­mel­ing track rem­i­nis­cent of anoth­er 90s rap-met­al activist stal­wart. Ice‑T may have moved on from L.A. gang life to com­fort­able TV star­dom, but few would deny him his street cred or his con­tin­ued abil­i­ty to size up the sit­u­a­tion of the Amer­i­can under­class.

Anoth­er rap­per-slash-actor (slash-poet-slash-com­pos­er) has entered the world of protest music from a decid­ed­ly dif­fer­ent sphere. Now inter­na­tion­al­ly famous for his musi­cal Hamil­ton, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s work doesn’t speak truth to pow­er as much as it makes pow­er speak its truth. Hamil­ton, writes Mary Grace Garis at Bus­tle, “is a sear­ing reminder that Amer­i­ca is very much found­ed by immi­grants fac­ing per­se­cu­tion, and that our free­dom, like­wise, was fought for by immi­grants.”

Their musi­cal venues and polit­i­cal visions may span a wide Venn dia­gram, but like Body Count’s lat­est, Hamil­ton draws on both con­tem­po­rary polit­i­cal rhetoric and music from the hey­day of “con­scious” hip-hop and alter­na­tive. Miran­da has wide­ly shared his influ­ences in his HAMthol­o­gy Playlist, and he remade sev­er­al of the show’s songs with some of his idols on The Hamil­ton Mix­tape. Con­tin­u­ing his cura­to­r­i­al role, and hav­ing “learned how to use the Spo­ti­fy thingy on my day off,” Miran­da now brings his fans the playlist above, which he calls “Rise Up Eyes Up Wise Up.”

The new mix begins with The Hamil­ton Mix­tape’s “Immi­grants (We Get the Job Done)” and moves on to a thor­ough­ly eclec­tic but SFW mix of Green Day, Tal­ib Kweli, Regi­na Spek­tor, Bob Dylan, Ruben Blades, and many oth­ers. It’s down­tem­po protest music, overall—no Body Count or Rage Against the Machine. Even Green Day’s entry is a bal­lad, “Are We the Wait­ing” from Amer­i­can Idiot. But then again, Hamil­ton’s fans often tend toward the down­tem­po end of the spec­trum. Let a thou­sand protest songs bloom, I say.

Miran­da announced the playlist on a new Twit­ter account, where he’s received a cou­ple hun­dred replies, includ­ing one from a fan who put the mix on Google Play. For those so inspired to revis­it or hear for the first time Hamil­ton’s reimag­in­ing of the Amer­i­can exper­i­ment, find the orig­i­nal cast record­ing below. If you need Spo­ti­fy’s free soft­ware, down­load it here.

via Bus­tle

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Whiskey-Fueled Lin-Manuel Miran­da Reimag­ines Hamil­ton as a Girl on Drunk His­to­ry

Alexan­der Hamil­ton: Hip-Hop Hero at the White House Poet­ry Evening

“Alexan­der Hamil­ton” Per­formed with Amer­i­can Sign Lan­guage

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Japanese Priest Tries to Revive Buddhism by Bringing Techno Music into the Temple: Attend a Psychedelic 23-Minute Service

Many reli­gious lead­ers would like to liv­en up their ser­vices to attract a younger, hip­per flock, but few have the nec­es­sary back­ground to pull it off in a tru­ly impres­sive way. Not so for the Japan­ese Bud­dhist priest Gyōsen Asaku­ra, who answered the high­er call­ing after a career as a DJ but evi­dent­ly nev­er lost his feel for the unstop­pable pulse of elec­tron­ic music. Get­ting behind his decks and don­ning his head­phones once again, he has begun using sound, light, and the orig­i­nal splen­dor of Fukui City’s Shō-onji tem­ple to hold “tech­no memo­r­i­al ser­vices.” You can see and hear a bit of one such audio­vi­su­al spir­i­tu­al spec­ta­cle in the video just above, shot at a memo­r­i­al ser­vice last fall.

“Bud­dhism may be approach­ing some­thing of a cri­sis point in Japan,” reports Bud­dhist­door’s Craig Lewis, “with 27,000 of the country’s 77,000 Bud­dhist tem­ples fore­cast to close over the next 25 years, reflect­ing shrink­ing pop­u­la­tions in small rur­al com­mu­ni­ties and a loss of faith in orga­nized reli­gion among the country’s pop­u­la­tion as a whole.”

He also sites an Asahi Shim­bun sur­vey that found 434 tem­ples closed over the past decade and 12,065 Japan­ese Bud­dhist tem­ples cur­rent­ly with­out res­i­dent monks. Can this tem­ple in a small city, itself known for its phoenix-like rise from the ash­es of the Sec­ond World War, do its part to reverse the trend?

Gyōsen Asaku­ra frames his tech­no memo­r­i­al ser­vices, how­ev­er incon­gru­ous they might at first seem, as in keep­ing with the tra­di­tions of his branch of Pure Land Bud­dhism. “Orig­i­nal­ly, gold­en dec­o­ra­tions in the tem­ple are expres­sions of par­adise light,” he told THUMP. “How­ev­er, the light of a tra­di­tion­al tem­ple has not changed its form from 1000 years ago to use can­dle­light, even after elec­tric­i­ty was invent­ed. I felt doubt­ful about that, and then I thought about express­ing par­adise with the lat­est stage light­ing such as 3D map­ping.”

After all, as he said to Japankyo, “peo­ple used to use the most advanced tech­nolo­gies avail­able to them at the time in order to orna­ment tem­ples with gold leaf,” so why not har­ness today’s tech­nol­o­gy to evoke the Bud­dhist “world of light” as well? And in any case, ecsta­t­ic sen­so­ry expe­ri­ences are noth­ing new in the realm of faith, though ecsta­t­ic sen­so­ry expe­ri­ences of Gyōsen Asaku­ra’s kind do cost mon­ey to put togeth­er. And so he, in the way of most reli­gious projects the world over, has asked for dona­tions to fund them, using not a bowl but the crowd­fund­ing site Ready­for. Judg­ing by 383,000 yen (more than $3300 U.S. dol­lars) he’s already raised, quite a few tech­no-heads have seen the light.

via Elec­tron­ic Beats

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The “Amen Break”: The Most Famous 6‑Second Drum Loop & How It Spawned a Sam­pling Rev­o­lu­tion

Edward Snow­den & Jean-Michel Jarre Record a Tech­no Protest Song, “Exit”

Hear the Great­est Hits of Isao Tomi­ta (RIP), the Father of Japan­ese Elec­tron­ic Music

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Rufus Harley, the First Jazz Musician to Make the Bagpipes His Main Instrument, Performs on I’ve Got a Secret (1966)

Musi­cian Rufus Harley did the peo­ple of Scot­land a great favor when he took up the bag­pipes. Like the Loch Ness Mon­ster and hag­gis, out­side its coun­try of ori­gin, the nation­al instru­ment has evolved into a hack­neyed punch­line.

What bet­ter, more unex­pect­ed ambas­sador for its expand­ed pos­si­bil­i­ties than a cer­ti­fied Amer­i­can jazz cat?

He cer­tain­ly stumped the all-white celebri­ty pan­el when he appeared on Steve Allen’s pop­u­lar TV game show, “I’ve Got a Secret” in 1966.

Politi­cian and for­mer Miss Amer­i­ca Bess Myer­son’s open­ing ques­tion feels a bit impolitic from a 50 year remove:

Is it how well you play it that’s unusu­al?

“Yes, def­i­nite­ly,” Harley agrees.

Hav­ing quick­ly sussed out that the instru­ment in ques­tion is a wood­wind, the pan­el cycles through a list of can­di­dates — flute?

Oboe?

Clar­inet?

No?

A…sweet pota­to?

Once they start bat­ting around sax­o­phones, Allen issues a brisk cor­rec­tive:

He wouldn’t be here tonight if he, you know, just played the sax­o­phone and that was his secret because that wouldn’t be too good a secret. 

Point tak­en.

Some­thing tells me a white guy in a suit and a tie would have elicit­ed less won­der from the pan­el upon the rev­e­la­tion that the instru­ment they failed to guess was the bag­pipes.

On the oth­er hand, here is a per­son of col­or com­mand­ing atten­tion and respect on nation­al tele­vi­sion in 1966, two days after the Black Pan­ther Par­ty was offi­cial­ly found­ed.

Harley had had pro­fes­sion­al train­ing in the sax­o­phone, oboe, trum­pet and flute, but as a bag­piper he was self-taught. As the com­ments on the video above demon­strate, his unortho­dox han­dling of the instru­ment con­tin­ues to con­found more tra­di­tion­al pipers. No mat­ter. The sounds he coaxed out of that thing are unlike any­thing you’re like­ly to hear on the bon­ny, bon­ny banks of Loch Lomond.

At the end of the seg­ment, Harley joined his back up musi­cians onstage for a live, Latin-inflect­ed cov­er of “Feel­ing Good.”

Spo­ti­fy lis­ten­ers can enjoy more of Harley’s dis­tinc­tive pip­ing here.

And just for fun, check out this list of bag­pipe terms.There’s more to this instru­ment than its asso­ci­a­tion with Groundskeep­er Willy might sug­gest.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear What is Jazz?: Leonard Bernstein’s Intro­duc­tion to the Great Amer­i­can Art Form (1956)

A Young Frank Zap­pa Turns the Bicy­cle into a Musi­cal Instru­ment on The Steve Allen Show (1963)

John Cage Per­forms Water Walk on US Game Show I’ve Got a Secret (1960)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and the­ater mak­er whose lat­est play, Zam­boni Godot, is open­ing in New York City on March 2. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Duet for French Horn and Chair

Pret­ty clever. Even more bet­ter is the com­ment left by one YouTube user, “I won­der if he’s first chair?” Ha!!

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Musi­cian Lugs a Cel­lo Up a Moun­tain, Then Plays Bach at 10,000 Feet, at the “Top of the World”

Down­load the Com­plete Organ Works of J.S. Bach for Free

The Genius of J.S. Bach’s “Crab Canon” Visu­al­ized on a Möbius Strip

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Meet Jane Little: The Musician Who Played with the Same Orchestra for 71 Straight Years, a World Record

Last May, when Jane Lit­tle died at the age of 87, a world record came to an end.

Stand­ing only 4′11″ and weigh­ing only 98 pounds, Lit­tle began play­ing a dou­ble bass in the Atlanta Sym­pho­ny Orches­tra in 1945, at the age of 16. And she con­tin­ued play­ing that bass for the orches­tra for the next 71 years, giv­ing her the longest pro­fes­sion­al tenure with the same orches­tra. Fit­ting­ly, she died onstage, col­laps­ing dur­ing an encore per­for­mance of ‘There’s No Busi­ness Like Show Busi­ness.’

This week, The New York­er has a short pro­file on Jane Lit­tle and an accom­pa­ny­ing video, which you can watch above. It’s enti­tled “The Longest Short­est Dou­ble Bassist.”

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Neu­ro­science of Bass: New Study Explains Why Bass Instru­ments Are Fun­da­men­tal to Music

Hear Iso­lat­ed Tracks From Five Great Rock Bassists: McCart­ney, Sting, Dea­con, Jones & Lee

Musi­cians Play Bach on the Octo­bass, the Gar­gan­tu­an String Instru­ment Invent­ed in 1850

The Sto­ry of the Bass: New Video Gives Us 500 Years of Music His­to­ry in 8 Min­utes

100 Great Bass Riffs Played in One Epic Take: Cov­ers 60 Years of Rock, Jazz and R&B

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A 10-Hour Playlist of Music Inspired by Robert Moog’s Iconic Synthesizer: Hear Electronic Works by Kraftwerk, Devo, Stevie Wonder, Rick Wakeman & More

It’s no secret that we love elec­tron­ic music here, espe­cial­ly that made with the ear­li­est instru­ments to hit con­cert stages and record­ing stu­dios. The most promi­nent of these two, respec­tive­ly, would be the Theremin and the Moog syn­the­siz­er, two devices invent­ed by engi­neers who were not them­selves musi­cians. Iron­i­cal­ly, these have remained two elec­tron­ic instru­ments with the most har­mo­nious­ly musi­cal voices—simulating the warmth and qua­v­ery vibra­to of the human voice while also lend­ing every­thing they touch an eerie, oth­er­world­ly air.

What often goes unre­marked is the close, near­ly direct influ­ence of one upon the oth­er, as David McNamee at The Guardian notes. Often thought of now as a nov­el­ty, the Theremin in its day received seri­ous treat­ment in the hands of clas­si­cal per­former Clara Rock­more, who inspired Robert Moog, then only 14 years old, to build his own ver­sion of Leo Theremin’s device in 1948. “God­fa­ther of elec­tron­ic music” Ray­mond Scott took Moog’s instru­ment and wired it “into a key­board-con­trolled con­trap­tion Scott called the Cla­vivox, which had a pro­found influ­ence on Moog.”

Moog con­tin­ued to build Theremins (a ver­sion of one went on tour with the Beach Boys to play “Good Vibra­tions”). But he is most famous for his syn­the­siz­ers. Ini­tial­ly, he had “no inter­est in repli­cat­ing exist­ing instru­ments. They were machines for cre­at­ing sound that sound­ed elec­tron­ic.” Moog first designed a cum­ber­some stu­dio-only appa­ra­tus, debut­ing in 1964, and his com­pa­ny’s “mas­sive, frag­ile and impos­si­ble to tune” mod­u­lar syn­the­siz­ers had lit­tle pop­u­lar appeal, or afford­abil­i­ty. “Few of Dr. Moog’s ear­ly cus­tomers,” McNamee points out, includ­ing “sound artists, chore­o­g­ra­phers, and stu­dios” were “inter­est­ed in play­ing con­ven­tion­al melody on the instru­ments.”

This makes all the more impres­sive the achieve­ments of Wendy Car­los, who showed the Moog’s capa­bil­i­ty for dynam­ic range and musi­cal pre­ci­sion with her huge­ly pop­u­lar adap­ta­tions of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven on the Moog syn­the­siz­er in 1968 and sub­se­quent years. But by 1970, the Min­i­moog, the inventor’s first portable key­board, had made ana­log syn­the­siz­ers acces­si­ble to musi­cians worldwide—even though lat­er con­sumer-grade instru­ments retained some of the odd prop­er­ties of the orig­i­nal, like the “shon­ky” pitch con­trol that sends Moogs qua­ver­ing off key. (In its ear­li­est incar­na­tions, “mak­ing the things stay in tune seemed a low pri­or­i­ty.”)

There’s no over­state­ment in say­ing that the Moog’s move out of the hands of elite engi­neers and onto the stage and rock stu­dio changed music his­to­ry for­ev­er in the 70s and 80s. Com­pre­hen­sive accounts of the Moog rev­o­lu­tion fill books and fea­ture-length doc­u­men­taries. The most direct expe­ri­ence comes from the music itself, of course, and to that end, The Guardian com­piled the playlist above of “Moog heroes”—featuring reli­able elec­tro-stars like Gary Numan, Kraftwerk, Tan­ger­ine Dream, Rick Wake­man, and Her­bie Han­cock, as well as more eso­teric Moog com­posers like Ital­ian hor­ror-film mas­ters Gob­lin. Gior­gio Morodor’s Moog grooves with Don­na Sum­mer are promi­nent, as are more recent dance hits from Depeche Mode, Franz Fer­di­nand, and LCD Soundsys­tem. Sur­pris­es come in the form of lit­tle heard tunes from clas­sic rock artists, like Neil Young’s “Com­put­er Age” (fur­ther up).

We’ll all find bones to pick with this list. Astute music nerds will notice right away that not all of these songs fea­ture Moog syn­the­siz­ers, and at least one, the Rolling Stones’ “2000 Light Years from Home,” actu­al­ly uses an instru­ment that pre­dates Moogs, the Mel­lotron. One might then rea­son­ably refer to the playlist as in some degree “Moog-inspired.” Miss­ing here are essen­tial con­tri­bu­tions from Bob Mar­ley and the Wail­ers and the recent­ly-depart­ed Bernie Wor­rell of Par­lia­ment-Funkadel­ic, from the eter­nal grooves of African pio­neers like William Ony­bear (top), and arguably, from Sui­cide and elec­tro-psych rock­ers Sil­ver Apples (who built their own syn­the­siz­er). These and oth­er per­haps cru­cial omis­sions aside, The Guardian’s “Moog heroes” playlist more than makes its case for the his­tor­i­cal sig­nif­i­cance and utter­ly dis­tinc­tive char­ac­ter of the Moog and its imi­ta­tors and musi­cal chil­dren.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How the Moog Syn­the­siz­er Changed the Sound of Music

Watch Her­bie Han­cock Rock Out on an Ear­ly Syn­the­siz­er on Sesame Street (1983)

Dis­cov­er­ing Elec­tron­ic Music: 1983 Doc­u­men­tary Offers a Fun & Edu­ca­tion­al Intro­duc­tion to Elec­tron­ic Music

The Scores That Elec­tron­ic Music Pio­neer Wendy Car­los Com­posed for Stan­ley Kubrick’s A Clock­work Orange and The Shin­ing

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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