The 20 CDs Curated by Steve Jobs and Placed on Prototype iPods (2001)

On Octo­ber 23, 2001, almost exact­ly 15 years ago, Steve Jobs intro­duced the very first iPod–an mp3 play­er, capa­ble of “putting 1,000 songs in your pock­et” and play­ing cd-qual­i­ty music. A nov­el con­cept back then. A prod­uct we take for grant­ed today.

Above, you can watch Jobs make the first iPod pitch. And below find a list of the 20 cds that came loaded onto iPod pro­to­types giv­en to jour­nal­ists attend­ing the launch event. What bet­ter way for them to demo the gad­get?

The list comes from Nobuyu­ki Hayashi, a Japan­ese reporter, who was there that day. If you know some­thing about Jobs’ musi­cal tastes, you’ll see that he had a strong hand in the cura­tion:

h/t Eli

via Dar­ing Fire­ball

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Learn Cal­lig­ra­phy from Lloyd Reynolds, the Teacher of Steve Jobs’ Own Famous­ly Inspir­ing Cal­lig­ra­phy Teacher

Con­for­mi­ty Isn’t a Recipe for Excel­lence: Wis­dom from George Car­lin & Steve Jobs (NSFW)

Steve Jobs on Life: “Stay Hun­gry, Stay Fool­ish”

Green Day Fan Joins Band On Stage, Takes Over on Guitar, and Acts Like He’s Been There Many Times Before

At a Green Day con­cert in Chica­go, a fan held up a sign, “I can play every song on Dook­ie.” So Bil­lie Joe Arm­strong let him pop on stage to play “When I Come Around.” And the fan did­n’t dis­ap­point, from the moment he climbed on the amp and kicked things off, to his stage dive back into the crowd. The footage was record­ed on Octo­ber 23rd. Enjoy.

h/t Robin — via SFGate

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Kei­th Moon, Drum­mer of The Who, Pass­es Out at 1973 Con­cert; 19-Year-Old Fan Takes Over

Blind Gui­tarist Lives Out Dream at U2 Show

Bob Geld­of Talks About the Great­est Day of His Life, Step­ping on the Stage of Live Aid, in a Short Doc by Errol Mor­ris

A Paul Simon Feelin’-Very-Groovy Moment

Leonard Cohen Has Passed at Age 82: His New and Now Final Album Is Streaming Free Online

Update on Novem­ber 10: We just got news that Leonard Cohen has passed, only a short few weeks after releas­ing his final album, avail­able below. The sad news comes from his Face­book page. 

Leonard Cohen’s new album You Want It Dark­er is stream­ing free online for a lim­it­ed time, thanks to NPR’s First Lis­ten site. Now 82 years old, and sens­ing that time is run­ning short, Cohen offers, writes Rolling Stone, a â€śgift to music lovers: a real­is­ti­cal­ly grim, spir­i­tu­al­ly radi­ant and deeply poet­ic world­view, gen­er­al­ly spiked with a roman­tic thrum and an exis­ten­tial wink.”

Hear the title track above. And stream the com­plete album right below. You can pur­chase your own copy of Cohen’s album on Ama­zon and iTunes. We’d also encour­age you to read this new pro­file of Cohen, writ­ten by The New York­er’s long-time edi­tor David Rem­nick. It’s quite poignant.

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:

Young Leonard Cohen Reads His Poet­ry in 1966 (Before His Days as a Musi­cian Began)

A Day in the Life of Zen Monk Leonard Cohen: A 1996 Doc­u­men­tary

Ladies and Gen­tle­men… Mr. Leonard Cohen: The Poet-Musi­cian Fea­tured in a 1965 Doc­u­men­tary

Leonard Cohen Reads The Great World War I Poem, “In Flan­ders Fields”

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Meet the Memphis Group, the Bob Dylan-Inspired Designers of David Bowie’s Favorite Furniture

David Bowie, in his years at Brom­ley Tech­ni­cal High School before becom­ing David Bowie, stud­ied not just music but art and design as well. Despite becom­ing a rock star, he nev­er for­got about the impor­tance of the visu­al, a sen­si­bil­i­ty man­i­fest in the per­for­mances he put on, the per­son­ae he assumed, and the music videos in which he starred right up until his death ear­li­er this year. After his suc­cess, the artist also became a full-fledged art con­nois­seur, and next month Sothe­by’s will hold Bowie/Collector, a series of three auc­tions “encom­pass­ing over 350 works from the pri­vate col­lec­tion of the leg­endary musi­cian.”

The first two auc­tions will sell Bowie’s mod­ern and con­tem­po­rary art; the third will focus entire­ly on his col­lec­tion of fur­ni­ture and oth­er pieces of design by Ettore Sottsass and the Mem­phis Group. Even if you haven’t heard of the Mem­phis Group, you’ve cer­tain­ly seen their fur­ni­ture. â€śIt’s Pee-Wee’s Play­house meets Mia­mi Vice,” in the words of Alis­sa Walk­er at Giz­mo­do. “It’s Saved By The Bell plus Beetle­juice.” As the post­mod­ern wing of the 1980s Art Deco revival, Mem­phis “com­bined overt­ly geo­met­ric shapes from a vari­ety of mate­ri­als in bright, con­trast­ing col­ors. Graph­ic pat­terns — usu­al­ly black and white — were not unusu­al.”

1280px-memphis-milano_movement

Image by Zanone, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Mem­phis, whose influ­ence has extend­ed far beyond the move­men­t’s offi­cial life­time of 1981 to 1988, began “when Ettore Sottsass, one of Italy’s archi­tec­tur­al grandees, met with a group of younger archi­tects in his apart­ment on Milan’s Via San Galdino,” accord­ing to Design Muse­um. (Sot­tass had made his name with, among oth­er things, Olivet­ti’s bright-red Valen­tine portable type­writer.) “They were there to dis­cuss Sottsass’ plans to pro­duce a line of fur­ni­ture with an old friend, Ren­zo Bru­go­la, own­er of a car­pen­try work­shop,” an idea that turned into “an exu­ber­ant two-fin­gered salute to the design estab­lish­ment after years in which col­or and dec­o­ra­tion had been taboo.”

Why call it Mem­phis? Dur­ing the meet­ing, the group put on Bob Dylan’s song “Stuck Inside of Mobile (With the Mem­phis Blues Again),” which gave Sot­tass the inspi­ra­tion. “Every­one thought it was a great name,” wrote Mem­phis mem­ber, and lat­er Mem­phis chron­i­cler, Bar­bara Radice, with its evo­ca­tions of “Blues, Ten­nessee, rock’n’roll, Amer­i­can sub­urbs, and then Egypt, the Pharoahs’ cap­i­tal, the holy city of the god, Ptah.” This aes­thet­ic foment even­tu­al­ly pro­duced such items found in the Bowie col­lec­tion as Michele de Luc­chi’s Flamin­go side table, Peter Shire’s Bel Air arm­chair, Achille and Pier Gia­co­mo Cas­tiglion­i’s friend­ly-look­ing radio-phono­graph, and Sot­tass’ own Carl­ton room divider, the most pop­u­lar Mem­phis object and one still made today.

Always aes­thet­i­cal­ly polar­iz­ing, Mem­phis has under­gone a bit of a revival in recent years: younger design­ers have looked to the group for ideas, and its sur­viv­ing mem­bers have heard a new call for their spe­cial brand of bold col­ors and strik­ing geom­e­try. In the video at the top of the post, gal­lerists Leo Koenig, Mar­garet Liu Clin­ton, and Joe Shef­tel show and tell about Mem­phis, and in the sub­se­quent videos you can learn more about Sottsass’ life and times and the mem­o­ries of Mem­phis design­er Mattheo Thun. Call the fruits of the Mem­phis Group’s labors dat­ed if you like â€” “it just looks like the 80s,” writes Walk­er — but they’re dat­ed, like many a Bowie or Dylan record, in the best way: unde­ni­ably time-stamped, yet some­how always fresh.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bauhaus, Mod­ernism & Oth­er Design Move­ments Explained by New Ani­mat­ed Video Series

Charles & Ray Eames’ Icon­ic Lounge Chair Debuts on Amer­i­can TV (1956)

David Bowie Paper Dolls Recre­ate Some of the Style Icon’s Most Famous Looks

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.

The 4′33″ App Lets You Create Your Own Version of John Cage’s Classic Work

433-app

Image via iTunes

John Cage’s 4’33” is one of the most infa­mous works of the 20th cen­tu­ry and which still has the abil­i­ty to divide peo­ple. Three move­ments of silence, where the per­former does noth­ing, it forces the audi­ence to lis­ten to its sur­round­ings and be present, a dis­til­la­tion of zen thought if there ever was one. In an increas­ing­ly dis­tract­ed age, being silent and present is very dif­fi­cult for most peo­ple. A Men­tal Floss arti­cle on the piece’s lega­cy ref­er­enced a 2014 Uni­ver­si­ty of Vir­ginia study where hun­dreds of peo­ple sat in silence for a total of 15 min­utes. “25 per­cent of women and 67 per­cent of men opt­ed to endure painful elec­tric shocks rather than pass the time with­out any stim­u­la­tion,” says the arti­cle.

Two years ago, the John Cage Trust launched the 4’33” app, which sounds coun­ter­in­tu­itive. How can a phone app make one present?

Well, it doesn’t exact­ly do that. Instead, it offers a chance for mem­bers to record and share their own “per­for­mances” of Cage’s famous piece, once again demon­strat­ing Cage’s result-—there is no real silence. (Even in 1951, one year before 4’33”’s com­po­si­tion, when Cage sat in a sound dead­en­ing ane­choic cham­ber in Har­vard, he could still hear the blood rush­ing in his veins.)

google-maps-of-4-33-app-of-john-cage

The iPhone app, which costs 99 cents, is sim­ple and comes with a record­ing of the piece from John Cage’s New York apart­ment, which high­lights the traf­fic sounds and police sirens. Tap on the “World of 4’33”” but­ton at the bot­tom and a world map opens, show­ing green push­pins in var­i­ous loca­tions where users record­ed their own moments of silence. (The project is sim­i­lar to the 2008 inter­net project of field record­ings, “One Minute Vaca­tion”).

One user’s Kaloli, Hawaii record­ing is all trop­i­cal insects and birds busy com­pos­ing their own music. The one some­body record­ed down­town in my home city is of our shop­ping mall at Christ­mas, with pedes­tri­ans, far off car­ols, and the sounds of com­merce. In Japan, there’s a love­ly record­ing of Chi­tose air­port, espe­cial­ly if you find echoey tan­noy announce­ments roman­tic (I do). From urban to sub­ur­ban to coun­try­side, this is a por­trait of a world that is nev­er silent.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John Cage’s Silent, Avant-Garde Piece 4’33” Gets Cov­ered by a Death Met­al Band

John Cage Per­forms His Avant-Garde Piano Piece 4’33” … in 1’22” (Har­vard Square, 1973)

Lis­ten to John Cage’s 5 Hour Art Piece: Diary: How To Improve The World (You Will Only Make Mat­ters Worse)

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the FunkZone Pod­cast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

Hear Igor Stravinsky’s Symphonies & Ballets in a Complete, 32-Hour, Chronological Playlist

Those who know the work of Igor Stravin­sky will be famil­iar with the recep­tion the Russ­ian composer’s The Rite of Spring received dur­ing its first per­for­mance in Paris in 1913. The typ­i­cal descrip­tion for what hap­pened is that the bal­let caused a “riot,” though giv­en our usu­al asso­ci­a­tions with that word, it hard­ly seems like the appro­pri­ate term. As The Telegraph’s Ivan Hewett notes, the respons­es, though bemused and irate, were gen­teel by most stan­dards of civ­il unrest. But there was vio­lence and the threat of vio­lence.

Accord­ing to a mem­ber of the orches­tra, “many a gentleman’s shiny top hat or soft fedo­ra was igno­min­ious­ly pulled down by an oppo­nent over his eyes and ears, and canes were bran­dished like men­ac­ing imple­ments of com­bat all over the the­atre.” What could cause such a scan­dal? Hear­ing the piece, above, it’s per­haps not obvi­ous why “peo­ple start­ed to whis­per and joke almost imme­di­ate­ly.” Both Stravin­sky and Russ­ian bal­let impre­sario Sergei Diaghilev sought to pro­voke the audi­ence, but both were tak­en aback by the vehe­mence of the reac­tions. As audi­ence mem­bers began to shout, “I left the hall in a rage,” Stravin­sky lat­er wrote. “I have nev­er again been that angry.”

Of course, the music alone, with­out Vaslav Nijinsky’s chore­og­ra­phy, only gives us half the sto­ry. Onstage, writes Hewitt, “there’s no sign that any of the crea­tures in the Rite of Spring has a soul, and there’s cer­tain­ly no sense of a rec­og­niz­able human cul­ture. The dancers are like automa­ta.” And yet, Stravin­sky seems to have intend­ed his music to alien­ate lis­ten­ers as well: “there are sim­ply no regions for soul-search­ing,” he said, “in The Rite of Spring.” It’s a com­ment that suc­cinct­ly sums up the composer’s icon­o­clasm and defi­ance of sacred musi­cal norms.

Stravinsky’s first bal­let, 1910’s The Fire­bird, fol­lowed Debussy in recu­per­at­ing the so-called “Devil’s Inter­val,” a tonal fig­ure avoid­ed for hun­dreds of years in reli­gious music for its sin­is­ter sound. But The Fire­bird’s exot­ic beau­ty charmed audi­ences, as did his next bal­let Petrush­ka.  And despite the Rite of Spring con­tro­ver­sy, many of Stravinsky’s sym­phonies are quite tra­di­tion­al next to the avant-gardism of his peers. His ten­den­cies of “regres­sion and restau­ra­tion,” writes clas­si­cal site CMUSE, “an amal­gam of the archa­ic and the mod­ern,” caused Theodor Adorno to describe Stravin­sky as schiz­o­phrenic in Phi­los­o­phy of Mod­ern Music.

Unlike his mod­ernist rival Arnold Schoen­berg, Stravin­sky is “in the same cat­e­go­ry as T.S. Eliot, as both were well-versed in literary/musical tra­di­tion and well aware of the cur­rent avant-garde move­ments, but main­tained quite a con­ser­v­a­tive approach to nov­el­ty.” Stravinsky’s con­ser­v­a­tive mod­ernism had a pro­found effect on anoth­er form of 20th cen­tu­ry music that looked both back­ward and for­ward: jazz. Artists like Char­lie Park­er paid trib­ute to him, and the com­pos­er very much appre­ci­at­ed it. “This cat,” said Park­er, “he’s kind of cool, you know.”

In the chrono­log­i­cal playlist above from Ulysses Clas­si­cal, hear the ear­ly sym­phonies and sonatas that inspired Diaghilev to hire him as the Bal­lets Russ­es first com­pos­er, and many of the bal­lets that enraged the Parisian elite, delight­ed Char­lie Park­er, and repelled Adorno. And find out why, as CMUSE argues, Stravin­sky may be “the great­est com­pos­er of the 20th cen­tu­ry.”

The playlist runs 32 hours. If you need Spo­ti­fy’s soft­ware, down­load it here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Night When Char­lie Park­er Played for Igor Stravin­sky (1951)

Watch 82-Year-Old Igor Stravin­sky Con­duct The Fire­bird, the Bal­let Mas­ter­piece That First Made Him Famous (1965)

Stravinsky’s “Ille­gal” Arrange­ment of “The Star Span­gled Ban­ner” (1944)

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

Watch a 27-Year-Old Glenn Gould Play Bach & Put His Musical Genius on Display (1959)

Glenn Gould died young, in 1982 at the age of 50, but the Cana­di­an clas­si­cal pianist made great con­tri­bu­tions to the world of music in his short life. He did it in part by start­ing young — so young, in fact, that he first felt the vibra­tions of music played for him while still in the womb by his moth­er. She’d decid­ed even then to raise a suc­cess­ful musi­cian, and her plan sure­ly worked bet­ter than she could ever have expect­ed. Young Glenn had per­fect pitch, learned to read notes before he learned to read words, entered Toron­to’s Roy­al Con­ser­va­to­ry of Music at age ten, and grew into the very arche­typ­al image of a musi­cal genius: eccen­tric and often dif­fi­cult, but pos­sessed of almost oth­er­world­ly skill and dis­tinc­tive­ness.

Those qual­i­ties came out nowhere more clear­ly than in Gould’s rela­tion­ship with the music of Johann Sebas­t­ian Bach, whom he described as “beyond a doubt the great­est archi­tect of sound who ever lived.” Even lis­ten­ers only casu­al­ly acquaint­ed with Gould’s work will know his record­ings of Bach’s Gold­berg Vari­a­tions, the first of which, record­ed in 1955, shot him to star­dom and became one of the best-sell­ing clas­si­cal albums of all time.

Four years after that, the Nation­al Film Board of Cana­da doc­u­men­tary Off the Record, just above, cap­tured his play­ing on film in the clips at the top of the post. â€śWhen Gould is not on tour or record­ing,” he spends most of his time at his retreat, a cot­tage on the Shore of Lake Sim­coe 90 miles north of Toron­to. Here he works on the piano he favors above all oth­ers for prac­tic­ing: a 70-year-old Chick­er­ing with a res­o­nant, harp­si­chord qual­i­ty recall­ing the instru­ments of the time of Bach.”

There, in that cot­tage in the small com­mu­ni­ty of Upter­grove, we see the 27-year-old Gould play Bach’s Par­ti­ta No. 2, vocal­iz­ing along with the dis­tinc­tive mix of force­ful­ness and del­i­ca­cy issu­ing from the instru­ment that he nev­er chose, but mas­tered to a degree few had before or have since. “His ambi­tion,” the nar­ra­tor says, “is to make enough mon­ey by the time he is 35 to retire from the con­cert stage and devote him­self to com­pos­ing.” In fact Gould put live per­for­mance behind him just five years lat­er in order to pur­sue with more focus his own kind of pianis­tic per­fec­tion, which he con­tin­ued to do for the rest of his life.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Glenn Gould Per­form His Last Great Stu­dio Record­ing of Bach’s Gold­berg Vari­a­tions (1981)

Glenn Gould Explains the Genius of Johann Sebas­t­ian Bach (1962)

Glenn Gould Offers a Strik­ing­ly Uncon­ven­tion­al Inter­pre­ta­tion of 1806 Beethoven Com­po­si­tion

The Art of Fugue: Gould Plays Bach

Glenn Gould Gives Us a Tour of Toron­to, His Beloved Home­town (1979)

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.

The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain Performs Great Covers of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer” & More

To the very end of his life, no less an author­i­ty on good musi­cal vibes than George Har­ri­son praised and played the ukulele, inter­pret­ing many clas­sic tunes on the instru­ment, pen­ning an enthu­si­as­tic endorse­ment, and sup­pos­ed­ly buy­ing ukes in bulk to give away at his home in Hawaii. As Har­ri­son rec­og­nized, there is some­thing spe­cial about the role of the ukulele in west­ern pop, and that has been true since Hawai­ian music explod­ed onto the main­land in the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry.

So there’s no rea­son why the ukulele shouldn’t be a seri­ous inter­preter of mod­ern hits from Nir­vana, Talk­ing Heads, The Who, David Bowie, etc. And also no rea­son those inter­pre­ta­tions shouldn’t be played on stages like the Roy­al Albert Hall by men and women in for­mal wear, befit­ting the seri­ous­ness with which they take the cheer­ful-sound­ing instru­ment. The Ukulele Orches­tra of Great Britain is so seri­ous, in fact, that they filed and won a law­suit last year against an alleged copy­cat group in Ger­many, claim­ing their “rep­u­ta­tion as per­form­ers” and “inter­na­tion­al and celebri­ty fan base” were at stake.

Indeed, the UOGB isn’t shy about self-pro­mo­tion, describ­ing them­selves as “a nation­al insti­tu­tion.” But despite their thor­ough­go­ing pro­fes­sion­al­ism, their act is still in good fun. (They also, with humor, note they “are often blamed for the cur­rent Ukulele revival which is sweep­ing the globe.”) And the orchestra’s rep­u­ta­tion is more than well-earned. Their site fea­tures quotes from lumi­nar­ies like Bowie and Bri­an Eno, and endorse­ments from NME and the Finan­cial Times, who apt­ly describe them as “both hilar­i­ous and heart­felt.” Their win­ning stage ban­ter gives way to stun­ning ren­di­tions of pop­u­lar songs that all of the members—including at times a dou­ble bass play­er who goes by the name “David Bowie”—sing in har­mo­ny. (They per­form their take on “Pin­ball Wiz­ard,” below, entire­ly acapel­la.)

In per­for­mances of “Smells Like Teen Spir­it,” at the top,” “Psy­cho Killer,” fur­ther down, and, just below, “Life on Mars” the orches­tra not only demon­strates how much great musi­cal com­e­dy depends upon great musi­cian­ship, they also show the incred­i­ble range of the diminu­tive Poly­ne­sian instru­ment. That’s espe­cial­ly the case in their act of Bowie “pla­gia­rism,” in which six uke play­ers pick out del­i­cate, clas­si­cal gui­tar-like arpeg­gios in the vers­es, then strum reg­gae-like per­cus­sive attacks under the com­plex vocal har­monies in the cho­rus.

The sev­enth mem­ber on stage plays an acoustic bass guitar—the only con­ces­sion to an addi­tion­al rhythm instru­ment, but even in these four anthemic rock songs, you won’t bemoan the lack of drums. As The New York Times remarks, the Ukulele Orches­tra of Great Britain “extracts more than seems human­ly pos­si­ble from so small and so mod­est an instru­ment.” See them play a ver­sion of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly theme at our pre­vi­ous post, and see many more videos and live per­for­mances at the orchestra’s YouTube chan­nel.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ukulele Orches­tra Per­forms Ennio Morricone’s Icon­ic West­ern Theme Song, “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.” And It’s Pret­ty Bril­liant.

George Har­ri­son Explains Why Every­one Should Play the Ukulele, With Words and Music

Musi­cians Re-Imag­ine the Com­plete Song­book of the Bea­t­les on the Ukulele

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

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