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La Boheme

La Boheme

May 26, 2025 | 280 words | Opera

Even though opera is an acquired taste and does not have mass appeal, it can be appreciated in small doses by the uninitiated, as when we encounter a snippet of a haunting aria sprinkled into a favorite movie or streaming series, to underscore the feeling of a particular scene.  And that’s a start.

If you ever find yourself tempted to dip a toe in the water and attend a live performance, the classic La Boheme by Puccini would be a good place to start.  And seeing it at the Metropolitan Opera House in the Lincoln Center complex in New York City, one of the world’s premier opera houses, is also a magnificent place to be initiated into the art form.

Here is my report from the balcony of a recent matinee performance:  The music and singing are heart-wrenchingly beautiful (of course) and the story is easy to follow.  But even more important for the novice, there are subtitles on the back of the seat in front of you, making it possible to actually make sense of what is happening on stage.  

There are also several breaks in the action to allow for changes in the incredibly elaborate stage sets.  These breaks, along with one formal intermission, provides an important breather for those of us who lack opera-like endurance going in, and could be put off by the prospect of a three-hour show.

My apologies to the true opera lover who may stumble upon this modest little commentary, and is already enthralled by every aspect of seeing opera live.  I am speaking to my fellow ‘great unwashed,’ and trying to prompt them to consider attending a performance for the first time.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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Joaquina Kalukango

Joaquina Kalukango

May 24, 2025 | 246 words | Song

Have you ever been moved to tears by a vocalist?  If you’re lucky, it happens on a regular basis.  Which would make the question: when was the last time?

The modern miracle of recorded music makes it possible to hear a favorite singer on demand.  Or bump into a favorite song on an arbitrary basis via the radio or a streaming service.  But nothing beats encountering a performer live.  A televised concert can do the trick.  But in-person is even better.

Best of all is an up-close, in-person experience in a small, intimate venue.  I was able to catch a Tony Award winner by the name of Joaquina Kalukango is just such a cabaret setting last night, and for a little over an hour she sung my life with her words.

She opened with rousing version of Gershwin’s “Get Happy,” followed that with a beautiful take on Paul McCartney’s “Black Bird,” and went on to cover the likes of Joni Mitchell, Michael Jackson, Roberta Flack, Whitney Huston, and Gloria Gayner.

It’s not fair to pick out a single moment for special comment, because the entire show was filled with such moments.  But when Ms. Kalukango broke out into her solo rendition of “No One Is Alone” from Stephen Sondheim’s musical Into the Woods – a score I was completely unfamiliar with before last night – and emoted the lines “sometimes fathers make mistakes, sometimes mothers make mistakes,” I was shuddering and shaking and crying full out.  

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

Use the contact form below to email me.

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In Praise of Musical Embellishments

In Praise of Musical Embellishments

Sept 5, 2024  |  176 words  |  Music  

A good song needs good bones: a pretty melody and a poetic lyric.  After that it only takes a talented vocalist to bring those good bones to life.  Think of “Moon River,” a 1961 composition by Henry Mancini with lyrics by Johnny Mercer, and first sung by Andy Williams.  Or “A Case of You,” written and performed by Joni Mitchell in 1971.

But many a good song has benefited from just the right type of instrumental highlighting.  I often wonder, is that the songwriter who adds these flourishes?  Or is it someone working in the recording studio behind the scenes, largely unknown to the listening audience?

Carole King and Gerry Goffin’s “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman” was written for Aretha Franklin in 1967, and Aretha’s rendition is amazing.  But my question is:  Whose decision was it to add those lovely strings behind her vocal?  And those ecstatic horns?

Who was the musical genius who decided on using a penny whistle and a bassoon on Smokey Robinson’s happy/sad masterpiece, “Tears of a Clown,” in 1967?

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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The Music of Bruce Springsteen

The Music of Bruce Springsteen

August 10, 2023  |  31 words  |  Music

When it comes to the music of Bruce Springsteen, I really miss the contribution of keyboardist David Sancious, who left the band to pursue his own thing a long time ago.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

Use the contact form below to email me.

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A Different Side of Bruce Springsteen

A Different Side of Bruce Springsteen

July 19, 2023 | 785 words | Music, Literature

My interest in Bruce Springsteen as a singer-songwriter ended about 50 years ago. The high point for me was The Wild, The Innocent, and The E Street Shuffle, a record he released in November 1973. Along with a few cuts from his follow-up Born to Run album, released in August 1975. He has obviously gone on to enjoy a prolific career in the decades since, achieving world-wide superstar status. So mine is a decidedly minority opinion. But I can’t help it. His “mature” output has never done much for me.

Springsteen is also renowned as a live performer, with his marathon three-hour concerts having long ago become the stuff of legend. And the septuagenarian is still at it, touring this year with the E Street Band for the first time since 2017. From all reports this geezer musician and his geezer bandmates are still able to deliver the goods, God bless their sorry old bones.

I was lucky enough to see Bruce and the boys back in their salad days. My first exposure was when he opened for the band Chicago at the old Spectrum, an indoor sports arena in Philadelphia, in 1973. Nobody knew who he was at the time, and I remember the sound of his songs in that acoustically-challenged venue vaguely reminding me of Van Morrison.

The second time was not long after, when he headlined at the tiny Hollinger Field House on the campus of West Chester University, thirty miles west of Philadelphia. And let me tell you, folks, that was one spectacular show. Very intimate. Full of energy. I walked home to my funky little apartment that night, about a half dozen blocks away, with his sweet music still ringing in my ears.

Fast forward to the present day. Mr. Springsteen released his autobiography to rave reviews in 2016. After going on the road for the 2017 tour mentioned above, he convened a 14-month residency at the Walter Kerr theater in Manhattan, from October 2017 to December 2018. That one-man show, Springsteen on Broadway, was the hottest ticket in town, and played to sold-out audiences throughout its entire run. Once the filmed version of the show landed on Netflix I made a point to check it out, to see what all the fuss was about. I tried watching it on three different occasions, but just couldn’t stay the course. In fact, I couldn’t even get halfway through it. Most excruciating for me was when our hero took to the piano to play heartfelt snippets of his “later” music.

Sharing this less-than-complementary view of Mr. Springsteen’s mature musical output does not come easily for me, since it violates one of my late parents’ cardinal rules: “If you don’t have something nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all.”

I am bending their mandate ever so slightly for what I consider to be a very good reason. The appeal of Bruce Springsteen as a source of musical inspiration may have completely faded for me. But my admiration for him as a man, as a husband, father, and all-around compassionate and wise human being has never been higher. Let me tell you why.

A dear friend of mine, who wishes I knew how to be a better friend to her, has recently introduced me to the work of the family therapist Terrence (Terry) Real. I am sort of therapy-adverse, so she broke me in gently by showing me a couple of easy-going YouTube videos featuring Terry and his wife, the therapist Belinda Berman, fielding questions from people with problems.

The next step in the immersion process was our reading Terry’s latest book, Us: Getting Past You and Me to Build a More Loving Relationship, together. The cover announced “Forward by Bruce Springsteen” but I paid that blurb no mind, assuming the Forward amounted to little more than just another schmaltzy celebrity endorsement.

It was only when my friend and I switched to the audio version, and started again at the very beginning of the book, that I encountered Mr. Springsteen’s thoughtful musings about his ongoing search for authenticity in his personal life, quite apart from the acclaim he has obviously achieved in the professional sphere. This short, spoken essay is a revelation. Who knew this aging arena rock god could be so perceptive and self-aware, and so able to articulate all that awareness.

You may be among the thousands who will no doubt be flocking to one of Springsteen’s sold-out concerts this year. I, on the other hand, am anxious to check out that autobiography he published a few years back. So much for that old saw about an American success story never being able to construct a viable second act.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

Use the contact form below to email me.

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Rachael & Vilray

Rachael & Vilray

January 23, 2022 | 337 words | Music

You may know the voice of Rachael Price from her work with the group Lake Street Dive, who first met as students at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston.  That was about twenty years ago, and they’ve been recording and touring together ever since.  They have a very relaxed “unplugged” sound, which puts the focus on the musicality of the music, if that makes any sense.  Four friends sitting around riffing.  Their original stuff is always fun, and they do some of the best covers around.

But the show I saw last night featured Ms. Price in a different setting, as the other half of a twosome she’s been part of since 2016, with another New England Conservatory of Music chum by the name of Vilray.

This side gig allows Price to get in touch with her inner Ella Fitzgerald.  The duo play cuts from The American Songbook of a couple of generations back, but not necessarily the hits of yesteryear you may have heard of. They uncover hidden gems from the 1930s and 1940s filled with witty wordplay, and bring them to life with their low-key arrangements and loving attention.

Their standard set list has expanded to include many of Mr. Vilray’s own compositions as well.  He draws his song-writing inspiration from the period he most admires.  His pleasing way with both lyric and melody matches the past masters he clearly emulates.

In addition to his composing, the man is positively a revelation as a performer.  There is his playing, his singing voice, and his whistling.  That’s right, whistling.  Vilray is single-handedly brining back whistling as an art form.  His amplified acoustic guitar, these two voices, and his whistling are all you need.  I can’t remember the last concert I attended where I simply closed my eyes and luxuriated in the sound.

Mr. Vilray is lucky to have found Ms. Price as his musical collaborator/interpreter.  And we are lucky the two of them found each other.  What a delightful evening of entertainment they provide.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr

January 23, 2022

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