#Danish pianist
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Rasmus Skov Borring playing “Skybrud” on the piano.
“Skybrud”
Tekst: Dy Plambeck, 2018
Musik: Marianne Søgaard, 2018
#Danish music#Denmark#Skybrud#Danish composer#Danish pianist#Rasmus Skov Borring#Dy Plambeck#Marianne Søgaard#Danish folk culture
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Movies you just need to watch before you die
(pictures isn't mine)
#movies#films#movie posters#total eclipse#the danish girl#pride and prejudice#the goldfinch#bridge to terabithia#the boy in the striped pajamas#the pianist#schindler's list
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troels - pastels | 20 x 12
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. ˚◞♡ 𝒊𝒇 𝒘𝒆'𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 — 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆, 𝒐𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰, 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖◞ ₊˚
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ meet the writers ꒱
˖ ࣪ we decided to put a little bio together for you all to get to know us better!
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍰 ꒱ 𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒏
˖ ࣪ ଓ writer and aspiring artist, editor who pulls her hair out over aesthetics a bit too much. they call me the aesthetic demon and angst monster 🩷
˖ ࣪ ଓ the pink enthusiast on this blog <3
˖ ࣪ ଓ indian ( a strange mix of north and south bc of families mixing )
˖ ࣪ ଓ I’m a native english speaker who can speak some hindi and tamil, brushing up on my telegu. learning variations of spanish, italian ( hopefully ) and chinese ( CRIES )
˖ ࣪ ଓ pansexual aromantic and some variation of genderqueer but generally fem-presenting, uses any pronouns! ( except for it/its )
˖ ࣪ ଓ lovvvesss SWEETS, a bit of a cookiemonster
˖ ࣪ ଓ former fencer and pianist, music composer and dramatic arts student ( STEM MAJOR AND HATED IT IIIII BELONG TO THE LITERATURE )
˖ ࣪ ଓ aspiring to be an english literature or creative writing professor
˖ ࣪ ଓ I’m a pink fairy<3 ( or so howl says )
˖ ࣪ ଓ really don’t like moths, or the dark or the ocean -
˖ ࣪ ଓ adore flowers! roses especially
˖ ࣪ ଓ love cooking but never ever let me because there’s always a disaster
˖ ࣪ ଓ snakes are my babies along with fishies
˖ ࣪ ଓ copper’s defence attorney + talisen’s 928b’s wifey<3 ( sighs, just in general a whore for all the talisens/jingyis )
˖ ࣪ ଓ reaperfucker, reapersexual, reaperromantic ( haoyu is my bbg )
˖ ࣪ ଓ you can find my private blog @edensrose
˖ ࣪ ଓ help me steal a plane so I can get to my SPOUSE
˗ˏˋ꒰ ☕️ ꒱ 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍 / 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 ( whichever you prefer, amore )
˖ ࣪ ଓ hello, I am howl. the eldritch artist, poet and writer, that was cast down to earth with a mission to spread some creativity and a little bit of chaos, but ended up being sold to an eldritch zoo in the 1950s for my crimes of writing too much hardcore angst.
˖ ࣪ ଓ bit of a blue devil if I say so myself — hand me something that is blue and I will steal it.
˖ ࣪ ଓ danish Italian ( with lots of other family in the mixing pot — hence why I speak and learn some specific languages )
˖ ࣪ ଓ as for the languages, I speak a bit of spanish, danish ( first language ), understand swedish, I am fluent in english and I am currently learning italian to reconnect with roots and I am trying to learn chinese.
˖ ࣪ ଓ unlabeled nonbinary ( they/them ) aromantic — one might notice that from time to time my mascot’s appearance changes in the art I make, depending on how I feel during the days I create.
˖ ࣪ ଓ SPICY FOOD LOVER RAAHH, give me all the spicy foods. also, licorice lover if you don’t like the salty licorice, hand it over to me <3
˖ ࣪ ଓ aspiring to be an author, graphics designer and artist that can one day teach art or share my art with the world and inspire other creators and artists.
˖ ࣪ ଓ former theatre student, I did improv and composed songs for the pieces that were made.
˖ ࣪ ଓ I am an eldritch being that follows eden around in all of her lives.
˖ ࣪ ଓ thalassophobic, also have claustrophobia, don’t like narrow stair cases that tilt.
˖ ࣪ ଓ PARENT OF TWO BEAUTIFUL CATS NAMED LUNA AND LUDO. ( yes eden is their mama )
˖ ࣪ ଓ I really like willow trees and lilies. ( all lilies really ! )
˖ ࣪ ଓ love cooking, it is one of my love languages, along with making art of the people I love!
˖ ࣪ ଓ 1 ᴀʟᴇꜱꜱɪᴏ Qᴜᴇʀɪᴅᴏ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅᴇʀ + alessio and rishen 928b’s SPOUTH ( I want all of dee alessios and rishens )
˖ ࣪ ଓ you can find my personal account here @bluezenzennie
˖ ࣪ ଓ the proudest whoreluthoe <3.
˖ ࣪ ଓ if you see me running down the streets at 3AM with a bunch of plane tickets, no you don’t.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍡 ꒱𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚
˖ ࣪ ଓ just two sillies who created a world together and are joined at the hip<3
˖ ࣪ ଓ we’re both 19+
˖ ࣪ ଓ we met via tumblr, may the fourth ( please don’t starwars jokes, we will not get them ), when howl sent some art to cheer up eden from the exam stress she was undergoing. the same day we began interacting about hobbies and ocs and our mutual interests in the fandoms we were in prior. we started chatting on discord and have been inseparable ever since
˖ ࣪ ଓ we created this whimsical world on accident, by simply allowing our ocs to interact via tupperbots and silly headcanons. it soon turned serious when we discovered we were both fully invested in the lore of our accidentally created world and one day decided to make a blog to share it.
˖ ࣪ ଓ ever since we concluded we should make a blog, we eventually began getting bigger ideas and aspirations in our heads and we thought: “what if we made this world into a bookseries?” it was a joke at first. . . and then we spiralled down.
˖ ࣪ ଓ the world you see on this blog is only some of the new world and story to be featured in the books we are currently working on. we play around here with our connection to fandom but on the sidelines are creating something even bigger
˖ ࣪ ଓ we are very connected to our ocs as they are the reason that we have grown as close as we have, along other personal factors. that said, it was these ocs that brought a lot of this friendship into blossom.
˖ ࣪ ଓ we are SPOUSES married with candied rings
˖ ࣪ ଓ we keep one another out of trouble ( especially howl with eden SIGHS ) and fly around like two chaotic birdies just wishing to create and make our dreams come true. one day we hope to meet one another ( since we live on opposite sides of the entire fucking ocean )
˖ ࣪ ଓ . . . but we’ll make a plan and have fun while doing so <3
˖ ࣪ art done by howl, a little illustration of our personas 🩷🩵
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💗 MOVIE TAGS 💗
A
🤍 a bear named winnie (2004)
🤍 a dangerous method (2011)
🤍 a fistful of dollars (1964)
🤍 a most violent year (2014)
🤍 a room with a view (1985)
🤍 a royal affair (2012)
🤍 a streetcar named desire (1951)
🤍 a woman is a woman (1961)
🤍 an education (2009)
🤍 agora (2009)
🤍 all about eve (1950)
🤍 amadeus (1984)
🤍 and god created woman (1956)
🤍 angel (2007)
🤍 armageddon time (2022)
🤍 the artist (2011)
🤍 ashes and diamonds (1958)
🤍 atonement (2007)
B
🤍 the banshees of inisherin (2022)
🤍 barefoot in the park (1967)
🤍 the beguiled (2017)
🤍 belle (2013)
🤍 the big sleep (1946)
🤍 the birds (1963)
🤍 bonnie and clyde (1967)
🤍 bram stoker’s dracula (1992)
🤍 breakfast at tiffany’s (1961)
🤍 brokeback mountain (2005)
🤍 brooklyn (2015)
🤍 bugsy (1991)
🤍 butch cassidy and the sundance kid (1969)
C
🤍 cabaret (1972)
🤍 captain america: the first avenger (2011)
🤍 carnival of souls (1962)
🤍 carol (2015)
🤍 casablanca (1942)
🤍 casino (1995)
🤍 cat on a hot tin roof (1958)
🤍 chicago (2002)
🤍 cléo de 5 à 7 (1962)
🤍 cleopatra (1963)
🤍 cria cuervos (1976)
🤍 crimson peak (2015)
D
🤍 daisies (1966)
🤍 dangerous liaisons (1988)
🤍 the danish girl (2015)
🤍 dead poets society (1989)
🤍 the debt (2010)
🤍 dirty dancing (1987)
🤍 don’t bother to knock (1952)
🤍 don’t worry darling (2022)
🤍 dracula (1931)
🤍 the duchess (2008)
🤍 dunkirk (2017)
E
🤍 east of eden (1955)
🤍 the edge of love (2008)
🤍 eileen (2023)
🤍 elizabeth (1998)
🤍 elizabeth: the golden age (2007)
🤍 elvis (2022)
🤍 emma (2020)
🤍 the end of the affair (1999)
🤍 the english patient (1996)
🤍 enola holmes (2020)
🤍 the eyes of tammy faye (2021)
F
🤍 fanny and alexander (1982)
🤍 the favourite (2018)
🤍 for a few dollars more (1965)
🤍 funny girl (1968)
G
🤍 gentlemen prefer blondes (1953)
🤍 giant (1956)
🤍 gilda (1946)
🤍 the girl on a motorcycle (1968)
🤍 gladiator (2000)
🤍 the godfather (1972)
🤍 the godfather: part ii (1974)
🤍 gone with the wind (1939)
🤍 the good, the bad and the ugly (1966)
🤍 goodfellas (1990)
🤍 the graduate (1967)
🤍 the grand budapest hotel (2014)
🤍 grand hotel (1932)
🤍 grease (1978)
🤍 the great gatsby (1974)
🤍 the great gatsby (2013)
🤍 guess who’s coming to dinner (1967)
H
🤍 the help (2011)
🤍 high noon (1952)
🤍 hiroshima mon amour (1959)
🤍 how to marry a millionaire (1953)
🤍 how to steal a million (1966)
I
🤍 ida (2013)
🤍 il gattopardo (1963)
🤍 the immigrant (2013)
🤍 in secret (2013)
🤍 inglorious basterds (2009)
🤍 it happened one night (1934)
J
🤍 jane eyre (2011)
K
🤍 the king (2019)
🤍 knife in the water (1962)
L
🤍 la dolce vita (1960)
🤍 la notte (1961)
🤍 la strada (1954)
🤍 ladies in lavender (2004)
🤍 lady chatterley’s lover (2015)
🤍 lady macbeth (2016)
🤍 the lady from shanghai (1947)
🤍 the last duel (2021)
🤍 legend (2015)
🤍 les misérables (2012)
🤍 the light between oceans (2016)
🤍 little women (2019)
🤍 the lover (1922)
🤍 the love witch (2016)
🤍 l’avventura (1960)
🤍 l’eclisse (1962)
M
🤍 macbeth (2015)
🤍 malèna (2000)
🤍 man with a movie camera (1929)
🤍 marie antoinette (2006)
🤍 mary, queen of scots (2018)
🤍 the master (2012)
🤍 meshes of the afternoon (1943)
🤍 miller’s crossing (1991)
🤍 the mirror (1975)
🤍 the misfits (1961)
🤍 moulin rouge! (2001)
🤍 the mummy (1999)
🤍 my fair lady (1964)
N
🤍 ninotchka (1939)
🤍 north by northwest (1959)
🤍 the northman (2022)
🤍 nosferatu the vampyre (1979)
O
🤍 once upon a time in america (1984)
🤍 once upon a time... in hollywood (2019)
🤍 once upon a time in the west (1968)
🤍 operation finale (2018)
🤍 the other boleyn girl (2008)
🤍 outlaw king (2018)
P
🤍 the pale blue eye (2022)
🤍 persona (1966)
🤍 phantom thread (2017)
🤍 the pianist (2002)
🤍 picnic at hanging rock (1975)
🤍 pride & prejudice (2005)
🤍 the prince and the showgirl (1957)
🤍 priscilla (2023)
🤍 the promise (2016)
🤍 psycho (1960)
🤍 the public enemy (1931)
🤍 purple noon (1960)
R
🤍 raging bull (1980)
🤍 rebel without a cause (1955)
🤍 rear window (1954)
🤍 repulsion (1965)
🤍 river of no return (1954)
🤍 the roaring twenties (1939)
🤍 rocco and his brothers (1960)
🤍 roman holiday (1953)
🤍 rosemary’s baby (1968)
🤍 rush (2013)
S
🤍 scarface (1932)
🤍 scarface (1983)
🤍 sense and sensibility (1995)
🤍 the seven year itch (1955)
🤍 the seventh seal (1957)
🤍 singin’ in the rain (1952)
🤍 sissi (1955) [trilogy]
🤍 slow west (2015)
🤍 some like it hot (1959)
🤍 the sound of music (1965)
🤍 splendor in the grass (1961)
🤍 the sting (1973)
🤍 stoker (2013)
🤍 summerland (2020)
🤍 sunset boulevard (1950)
🤍 sweet bird of youth (1962)
🤍 the swimming pool (1969)
T
🤍 their finest (2016)
🤍 the third man (1949)
🤍 this property is condemned (1966)
🤍 titanic (1997)
🤍 to catch a thief (1955)
🤍 to kill a mockingbird (1962)
🤍 tokyo story (1953)
🤍 the two faces of january (2014)
V
🤍 vertigo (1958)
🤍 vita & virginia (2018)
W
🤍 walk the line (2005)
🤍 waterloo bridge (1940)
🤍 west side story (1961)
🤍 white noise (2022)
🤍 who’s afraid of virginia woolf? (1966)
🤍 the wild one (1953)
🤍 wild strawberries (1957)
🤍 woman walks ahead (2017)
🤍 the wonder (2022)
🤍 wuthering heights (1992)
Z
🤍 the zookeeper’s wife (2017)
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Jens Birkemose (June 28, 1943 - 2022) was a Danish artist, originally trained as a classical pianist and composer, before switching to the Royal Academy of Art in Copenhagen and the Academie des Beaux-Arts in Paris, where he lived for several decades.
Birkemose’s art is abstract expressionism with occasional figurative elements, as seen in this oil painting from 2004, entitled Abstract Composition - oil on canvas (Galleri Hornbæk)
#art#danish artist#danish painter#oil on canvas#danish royal academy of fine arts#jens birkemose#academie des beaux arts#galleri hornbæk#abstract expressionism#2000s
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Simone Dinnerstein
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Classical pianist Simone Dinnerstein was born in New York City in 1972. Dinnerstein first garnered attention for her 2007 self-produced recording of Bach's Goldberg Variations, which reached number 1 on the US Billboard Classical Chart. She has recorded thirteen albums, and performed with orchestras from around the world including the New York Philharmonic, the Danish National Symphony Orchestra, the Tokyo Symphony, the Orquestra Sinfonica Brasileira, and the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra. In 2009, Dinnerstein founded Neighborhood Classics, a concert series that raises money for music education programs in New York City schools.
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Oh what ballets have you gone too and would you recommend them? The ones I do want to go to havent been put up locally yet so im thinking of widening my horizons until im in a better position to travel.
OKAY Omg I'm so happy to spout off about this!!!!!!!
My absolute favorites are ballets by the choreographer Balanchine, who founded the New York City Ballet. To start I would recommend Serenade (Tchaikovsky music to die for), Concerto Barocco (Bach), Symphony in C (Bizet), Jewels and Chaconne as entries. He has GREAT leotard ballets set to modern classical music but you have to like dissonant or atonal music (like Hindemith) and have patience for no costumes no sets no story and only movement which is not friendly if you don't already know his style. He also made a wonderful Nutcracker and a Midsummer Nights Dream if you want a story ballet. The New York City Ballet owns that repertory but! The Paris Opera Ballet has for years been doing a FABULOUS job of it too as have Stuttgart Ballet.
I have been to 4 types of ballets (my own categorization) put up by the following companies - New York City Ballet and other Balanchine type ballet companies, the American Ballet Theater, the Marijnsky, the Bolshoi, the Royal Ballet, the English National Ballet, the Royal Danish Ballet, the Paris Opera Ballet, the Korean National Ballet, Universal Ballet, San Francisco Ballet and the Bulgarian Varna Ballet too.
The four types of ballets are
1. Story ballets. 2. No story ballets 3. Modern ballets (sometimes story sometimes costume sometimes neither) 4. Total reworkings/Broadway adjacents
The Story ballets are Nutcracker, Giselle, Swan Lake, La Bayadere, Romeo and Juliet - that most companies will cycle through and put on. Oh Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty too - I like the English National and the Royal Ballet versions of these a lot.
The English, French, Danes and Russians all have very distinct styles from each other in terms of how they like to do movement and narrative using very similar steps and the same music so I would start anywhere and just dig in. I wish I could say stuff about the Italians like the Scala but I have only seen individual dancers like the IMMENSELY AMAZING Roberto Bolle and Alessandra Ferri doing guest spots with the ABT so I can't say.
The no story ballets are mostly Balanchine to me bc I see them as separate from the work of Jerome Robbins who sometimes had little plots and sometimes didn't.
These I would call Modern Ballets. Jerome Robbins is another WONDERFUL choreographer who is known for West Side Story which is sad bc I don't like those dances and his modern ballets are so much better! Like Afternoon of a Faun (two dancers meet in an empty rehearsal room and have a whole compact romance), Dances at a Gathering, Goldberg Variations. Fancy Free puts three Ballet boys in sailor outfits doing the cutest moves ever. He also made The Cage where female insects kill their males after mating. I recommend all of these but for Goldberg - the pianist can have a hard time lol.
Roland Petit made a Carmen for Paris Opera Ballet which is super sexy, which I also recommend.
Once you've seen a couple Swan Lakes - I would go with Bolshoi and Paris Opera just for comparison - and you like more Broadway type dancing you might want to watch Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake with boy swans. Completely reworked but so good.
I want to know more about Danish Ballet because of Bournonville- there's this wonderful friendly energy, a relaxed elegance to Danish Ballet that is very unique to that country but I haven't had that much chance.
Shading over into straight up modern dance, Twyla Tharpe made In the Upper Room which I saw danced by the American Ballet Theater which I found so cathartic I went into a crying jag of hysteria in the elevator down to the parking lot of Lincoln Center. Jerome Robbins also made a Ballet set to music by the same composer, Phillip Glass, Glass Pieces, which is so fun and feels very loving to New York City.
Uhh I think I have to stop even though I can say more. Anyway Ballet is great and I think everyone should go. Even bad Ballet performed badly is always worth it to me
#ballet#george balanchine#Jerome robbins#i meannn if you want more current choreographers like people who are alive NOW i also have recs for those#just lemme know lol
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Succession Thoughts but it’s just a commentary on the New Yorker Jeremy Strong article.
I haven’t posted a *spicy* controversial opinion in a while, so I thought we’d have some fun this morning. I finally got around to reading the New Yorker piece on Jeremy Strong just to see what the fuss was about and while I don’t really have much of an opinion either way, the thing that stands out is how much Kendall’s dialogue resembles Strong’s way of speaking. This section:
Talking about his process, he quoted the jazz pianist Keith Jarrett: “I connect every music-making experience I have, including every day here in the studio, with a great power, and if I do not surrender to it nothing happens.” During our conversations, Strong cited bits of wisdom from Carl Jung, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Karl Ove Knausgaard (he is a “My Struggle” superfan), Robert Duvall, Meryl Streep, Harold Pinter (“The more acute the experience, the less articulate its expression”), the Danish filmmaker Tobias Lindholm, T. S. Eliot, Gustave Flaubert, and old proverbs (“When fishermen cannot go to sea, they mend their nets”). When I noted that he was a sponge for quotations, he turned grave and said, “I’m not a religious person, but I think I’ve concocted my own book of hymns.”
This bleeds Kendall. Also, when Strong says, “It was about, like, Beastie Boys-ing it up,” Strong recalled. “I was missing the patois of bro-speak.”
Holy mother.
The more I watch this show the more I feel like Armstrong pulls from all the actors real-life personalities and figures them into the characters they play without the actors yet realizing they’re almost parodying themselves. This is just my opinion having watched the show a few times, but it’s an impression I’m increasingly feeling is accurate.
Take James Cromwell for instance. Ewan is portrayed as a ‘save-the-planet-fuck-the-rich’ kind of guy who never realizes he is, undoubtedly, one of the wealthy. He’s in that world more than the real world whether he likes it or not. Cromwell, in real life, glued himself to a Starbucks counter a few months ago while protesting for PETA, which is just peak ‘rich-person-who-thinks-he’s-an-activist’.
Kieran is quite similar to Roman in real life, from what little interview bits I’ve seen; he’s sort of snarky, frenetic, but decently likeable and likes to fuck around in the way Roman does by sometimes pranking his cast members.
J. Smith-Cameron is married to a wealthy director and grew up in a wealthy family (father an architect, grandfather helped build the Biltmore). She has this idea--seemingly--in her head, that she has only just made it, and has lived on the outside of success her whole life, but really she’s as elite as anyone, just completely unaware of it. Gerri, by contrast, married into the world she’s in, thinks she’s morally better than the Roys, but really is one of them as much as anyone in the company.
I haven’t had the chance to converse with people on this platform about Succession in a while and have missed it, especially since I’m re-watching the show (again), so I thought I’d write up this quick post to see what others think. Agree, disagree, do what you usually do on my Succession Thoughts posts and tell me what you think honestly. This was just an off-the-cuff blurb that I wanted to write up having finally read the infamous New Yorker piece.
This piece will probably strike some nerves since I’m hard on actors/rich people in general, but I just call things like I see ‘em.
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First Impressions: Hans Christian Andersen
[Edmund] Gosse expected to find a handsome old man and not, as he said, a gorilla with excessively long, loose-jointed arms, giant hands, and a hideous face. But Gosse too witnessed the transformation that took place as soon as Andersen began to [read aloud]. A beautiful music and an inner refinement promptly poured forth from the aging author. "As soon as he spoke, yes, if he even smiled, his genius was evident," writes Grosse.
(p. 216)
And women loved him for his innocence. Not, as Charlotte Bournonville so delicately expresses it in her memoirs, because he was a primo amoroso, or handsome in appearance. As the German harpist and pianist Clara Schumann once said without hesitation, the Danish fairy-tale writer was "the ugliest man imaginable" ! And yet women, both young and old, thronged around him almost everywhere he went in the world.
(p. 141)
The Scottish author Elizabeth Rigby had a strong first impression of Andersen: "A tall, gaunt, fleshless man who twisted and bent his body like a lizard with a hollow-cheeked, cadaverous face." She was especially taken with the Dane's innocent radiance and noted in her diary that it wasn't so strange that Andersen found everyone to be friendly[.]
(p. 399)
The theater's leading dancer of the day, Anne Margrethe Schall (also known as "Madame Schall"), the poet and critic Knud Lyne Rahbek, and Lord Frederick Conrad von Holstein —both of whom sat on the board of the Royal Theater— all received visits from the boy. His frail, sickly exterior proved to be inversely proportional to his outspoken manner and the almost mulelike will that he exhibited whenever he planted his big boots full of holes on the doorsteps of the city's better families and was granted an interview. The solo dancer turned him away, convinced he was more of a lunatic than a genius. The theater directors also had little patience with him. Holstein didn't think such a gaunt figure was suited to go on stage, to which the young Andersen replied —as he tells it in his memoirs— that if His Lordship would hire him at a salary of 100 rigsdaler per year, he would undoubtedly make haste to grow fat!
(p. 20)
Source: Hans Christian Andersen: A New Life
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Birthdays 8.14
Beer Birthdays
Eugene L. Husting (1848)
Brandon Hernández (1976)
Five Favorite Birthdays
Emmanuelle Beart; French actor (1965)
Halle Berry; actor (1968)
Mila Kunis; Ukrainian-American actor (1983)
Gary Larson; cartoonist (1950)
Steve Martin; comedian, actor, writer, banjo player (1945)
Famous Birthdays
Russell Baker; essayist (1925)
Emmanuelle Béart; French actress (1963)
Catherine Bell; actor (1968)
Herman Branson; African-American physicist, chemist (1914)
Sarah Brightman; English singer-songwriter (1960)
John Brodie; San Francisco 49ers QB (1935)
Lodewijk Bruckman; Dutch painter (1903)
Sharon Bryant; R&B singer (1956)
Kevin Cadogan; rock singer-songwriter, guitarist (1970)
Méric Casaubon; Swiss-English author (1599)
Yannoulis Chalepas; Greek sculptor (1851)
Darrell "Dash" Crofts; singer-songwriter and musician (1940)
David Crosby; rock singer (1941)
Charles Jean de la Vallée-Poussin; Belgian mathematician (1866)
Mstislav Dobuzhinsky; Russian-Lithuanian-American artist (1875)
Slim Dunlap; singer-songwriter and guitarist (1951)
Tracy Caldwell Dyson; chemist and astronaut (!969)
Richard R. Ernst; Swiss chemist (1933)
Erica Flapan; mathematician (1956)
Francis Ford; actor and director (1881)
John Galsworthy; English writer (1867)
Alice Ghostley; actor (1926)
Larry Graham; soul/funk bass player and singer-songwriter (1946)
Buddy Greco; singer, pianist (1926)
Marcia Gay Harden; actor (1959)
Jackée Harry; actress (1956)
Robert Hayman; English-Canadian poet (1575)
Lee Hoffman; author (1932)
Leopold Hofmann; Austrian composer (1738)
Doc Holliday; dentist, wild west gambler (1851)
James Horner; composer (1953)
Ernest Everett Just; African-American biologist (1883)
Jan Koetsier; Dutch composer (1911)
Margaret Lindsay Huggins; Anglo-Irish astronomer (1848)
William Hutchinson; founder of Rhode Island (1586)
Magic Johnson; Los Angeles Lakers (1959)
Stanley A. McChrystal; American general (1954)
John McCutcheon; folksinger (1952)
Paddy McGuinness; English comedian (1973)
Lionel Morton; English singer-songwriter, guitarist (1942)
Bruce Nash; film director (1947)
Frank Oppenheimer; particle physicist (1912)
Hans Christian Ørsted; Danish physicist and chemist (1777)
Susan Saint James; actor (1946)
Paolo Sarpi; Italian writer (1552)
Ben Sidran; jazz and rock keyboardist (1943)
Stuff Smith; violinist (1909)
Danielle Steel; writer (1947)
Jiro Taniguchi; Japanese author and illustrator (1947)
Bruno Tesch; German chemist (1890)
Ernest Thayer; "Casey at the Bat" writer (1863)
Bruce Thomas; English bass playe (1948)
Pieter Coecke van Aelst; Flemish painter (1502)
Carle Vernet; French painter and lithographer (1758)
Claude Joseph Vernet; French painter (1714)
Earl Weaver; Baltimore Orioles manager (1930)
Wim Wenders; German film director (1945)
Lina Wertmüller; Italian film director (1926)
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OTD in Music History: 26-year-old Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg (1843 - 1907) watches the world premiere of his Piano Concerto in Copenhagen in 1869. It is an immediate and enduring smash hit. Other notable musical personalities in attendance at that historic event included noted Danish composer Niels Gade (1817 - 1890), and famed Russian pianist-pedagogue Anton Rubinstein (1829 - 1894) -- who actually provided his own piano for use at the concert!
One of the most popular and beloved "classical" composers of the 19th Century, Grieg's skillful use of Norwegian folk music in his compositions for the concert stage did much to help his country cultivate its national cultural identity, just as Jean Sibelius (1865 - 1957) did for Finland and Bedrich Smetana (1824 - 1884) did for the Czech Republic.
Grieg's spirited rhythms often have folk song associations, and his harmonies -- although firmly rooted within the mainstream late-Romantic idiom -- were considered to be both novel and piquant in his own time.
Between 1867 and 1901, Grieg wrote ten collections of "Lyric Pieces" ("Lyriske Stykker") for piano; many of these short and beautiful little "character pieces" are still performed today, especially by students. Although he was essentially a miniaturist, Grieg did complete several major works in larger forms -- most notably, his justly-famous Piano Concerto, and the "Peer Gynt Suite" (1876) and "Holberg Suite" (1884).
Grieg's Piano Concerto also holds a special footnote in history for being the first piano concerto ever recorded -- by Wilhelm Backhaus (1884 - 1969) in 1909. Due to the extremely primitive and limited nature of recording technology at the time, however, this historic recording was heavily abridged, and runs to only six minutes in length...
Grieg revised the Piano Concerto at least seven times over the ensuing decades. The final version of the work -- which is typically heard today -- was completed in the last weeks of his life.
PICTURED: A real photo postcard showing the middle-aged Grieg, which he signed and dated just a few months before his death.
#Edvard Grieg#Grieg#composer#classical composer#pianist#classical pianist#classical music#music history#piano#classical#classical studies#Norwegian folk music#Romantic era#Poems#classical musician#Symphony#Clara's Song#Melodies of the Heart#Sonata#Romances and Ballades#Piano Concerto#Concerto#Peer Gynt
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Roy Owen Haynes (born March 13, 1925) is a jazz drummer. He is among the most recorded drummers in jazz. In a career lasting over 80 years, he has played swing, bebop, jazz fusion, and avant-garde jazz and is considered a pioneer of jazz drumming. "Snap Crackle" was a nickname given to him in the 1950s. He has led bands such as the Hip Ensemble. His albums Fountain of Youth and Whereas were nominated for a Grammy Award. He was inducted into the Modern Drummer Hall of Fame. His son Graham Haynes is a cornetist; another son Craig Holiday Haynes and grandson Marcus Gilmore are both drummers. He was born in Boston to Gustavas and Edna Haynes, immigrants from Barbados. His brother, Michael E. Haynes, became an important leader in the community of Massachusetts, working with Martin Luther King Jr. during the civil rights movement and for forty years serving as pastor of the Twelfth Baptist Church. He made his professional debut in 1942 and 1945 began his full-time professional career. He worked with saxophonist Lester Young and was a member of saxophonist Charlie Parker's quintet. He recorded at the time with pianist Bud Powell and saxophonists Wardell Gray and Stan Getz. He toured and recorded with singer Sarah Vaughan. He lent his voice to the open-world video game Grand Theft Auto IV. He was awarded the Danish Jazzpar prize, and the French government knighted him with the Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. He received honorary doctorates from the Berklee College of Music, the New England Conservatory, as well as a Peabody Medal. He was inducted into the DownBeat magazine Hall of Fame. He was awarded the Mid Atlantic Arts Foundation's BNY Mellon Jazz Living Legacy Award. His album Birds of a Feather: A Tribute to Charlie Parker was nominated for the 44th Annual Grammy Awards as Best Jazz Instrumental Album. He was named a recipient of a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences and he received the award at the Special Merit Awards Ceremony & Nominees Reception of the 54th Annual Grammy Awards. He was given the Lifetime Achievement Award by the Jazz Foundation of America. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpuo_c-uV4r/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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"Aftenskyerne" is a song by danish composer Nancy Dalberg (1881-1949), performed by mezzosoprano Kirsten Voss and pianist Maren Marie Tange at Kirsten Voss' debut from Royal Academy of Music, Aarhus, in Musikhuset Aarhus 2022.
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Music is Love in Search of a Word
Word Count: 5080
Fluff, Romance, Soulmates, Café AU
Summary: Momo Yaoyorozu has finally accomplished her goal of opening her own café. And the location she's chosen isn't just good for business—it's also the ticket to finding her soulmate!
Hello, everyone! Here is my story for the MomoJiro Bang! Please check out the lovely art by my partner @bnha-ramblings, and also a big thanks to my beta @leland-chapman-the-bounty-hunter! Enjoy!
The scent of brewing chamomile danced on the air, filling Momo’s nose with a honey-sweet smell. It bubbled in the teapot on the rustic stove, which sat between two counters laden with espresso machines, coffee pots, jugs of fruit concentrate chilling in bowls of ice, and countless bags of tea leaves. A foot and a half in front of the cabinets and counters stood a display case, which housed scrumptious-looking muffins, danishes, brownies and blondies, donuts, and various other pastries. A small counter sat beside it with an old-fashioned cash register and a tiny potted money tree. Momo flitted around the various round, tableclothed tables to slightly rearrange the flowers sitting in the colorful glass vases or barely shift the teacups and saucers. After giving the room one last scrutinizing sweep, she walked up to the front glass door to flip the sign hanging in it to “OPEN.”
The simple act made Momo swell with pride. I’ve done it! I’ve successfully opened my own tea shop and café! She thought triumphantly. Four years of slaving over a business degree, half a year of financial bargaining, and another three months of construction, interior decorating, and asset obtaining had finally led to this moment. She couldn’t help peering out of the door at the sidewalk. Her fingers twiddled with anticipation as she watched the passersby. Would any of them notice her new tea shop? Would any of them be intrigued and stop in? Who would be her first customer?
After a few seconds of heart-pounding suspense, Momo realized that her potential customers may be put off by a sweaty, wide-eyed woman standing at the door breathing heavily onto the glass. She rubbed away the condensation with the hem of her apron before hurrying back to the counter. She needed to find something to occupy her time or she would go crazy from the expectation! However, she had been at the store for three hours preparing, so it was terribly hard to find anything to do now. She just stared hopelessly at the teapot on the stove, counting the seconds until it began to whistle with the collecting steam.
When she finally pulled the chamomile tea off the stove, she was at a complete loss of what to do.
Music. Music would help calm my nerves, she decided. She walked across the room to the old-fashioned radio sitting on a shelf on the wall. All of the outfittings in Momo’s tea shop had a rustic charm to contribute to the English Victorian vibe that she was going for—plus, she just loved the character of antiques! She fiddled with the dial, surfing through the static for a channel that would suit the atmosphere of her tea shop. She finally landed on a classical music channel, and sweet tones of piano keys began to mingle in the air with the fresh scent of the chamomile.
It seemed that Momo had caught the tail end of a piece; by the time she walked back to her counter to pour herself a cup of chamomile, the radio host's voice has replaced the calming piano music.
“Hello, listeners. I hope we are having a pleasant morning,” the host’s voice was soft and rich like the smoothest coffee; it immediately lulled Momo into a sleepy sense of contentment, prompting her to lean back against the counter and sip at her hot tea with a smile. “The next song comes to us from the most recent classical sensation, contemporary pianist Hitoshi Shinso. In a recent interview, he explained how his soulmate song inspired all the work on his debut album. He wanted to celebrate the love for his soulmate, and each song in the album chronicles their journey together…”
The radio host’s comments faded into the background as Momo drifted further into a placated state of daydreaming. She’d always adored the concept of the soulmate song. It was so inherently romantic! A song you were born knowing. A song that you only shared with one other person in the whole world. A unique tune that you could use to communicate with someone on such an intimate, personal level. Just thinking about it made butterflies take flight in Momo’s stomach and pleasurable tingles begin to shoot up and down her nerves.
Momo especially loved her soulmate song. She supposed everyone thought their soulmate song was extra-special, but Momo couldn’t help but just be enamored by hers. It was a harmonious blend of classical notes and jazzy tunes that came together to make a soothing yet stimulating melody. When Momo closed her eyes and let it flow forth to fill her mind, body, and soul with its mellifluence, she couldn’t help but imagine the kind of person her soulmate must be. Who did those hints of serious, deep tones amongst her sweet, high notes represent? How did it align with their personality? Wondering always filled Momo with a sense of excitement about the day that she would finally discover the truth.
Just as Momo was beginning to lose herself in her soulmate song, she was jolted back to reality by the loud chime of the bell attached to the top of her door.
“O-oh! Welcome,” she cried. As she jumped away from the counter, she nearly dropped the mug of chamomile she was still holding in her hands. She squeaked as the liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling over her hands and splashing down on the floor.
“Pl-please excuse me!” she flushed in embarrassment, scrambling around behind the counter in search of a dishrag. When she found one, she hastily wiped off the mug and set it down, and then rushed up to the cash register while still wiping the tea from her hands. “Sorry about that! How can I help yo—Oh! Ochako!”
“Hi, Momo!” her friend chirped pleasantly. “I rushed over here as soon as I saw that you were open! Am I your first customer?”
“Yes, actually, you are!” Momo laughed. Ochako squealed and did a little happy dance, which made Momo laugh more.
“It looks so cute!” Ochako gushed, stepping to the side to hungrily eye the many sweets sitting in the display counter. “And everything looks so delicious! It’s so amazing! You’ve been working on this for so long. It’s hard to believe that the day has finally come.”
“I know!” Momo said, smiling while resting her cheek into her hand. “I almost expect to wake up in my bed, it all having been one long dream…”
“Well, this is no dream, sister!” Ochako said and even lightly pinched Momo’s upper arm. She sprang away with a squeal, swatting at Ochako’s hand. She tried to look stern, but the laugh bubbling from her lips ruined it. Ochako just playfully wiggled her eyebrows before leaning down to hungrily inspect the sweet wares Momo had arranged in the display. “Honestly, it feels like I’m the one dreaming, now! All of these treats look so amazing… It’s like Heaven…”
“You can have whichever one you like. My treat,” Momo offered.
“No way!” Ochako objected, shooting straight up to poutily frown at her. “I’m your first customer, and that means I’m gonna pay! No ifs, ands, or buts about it… buuuuuuut I won’t refuse a little something extra.” Her firm tone faded into a dreamy drawl as her eyes drifted back to the case, particularly the ichigo daifuku tantalizing her from the top shelf. Momo couldn’t help but laugh; of course Ochako’s weakness to mochi was coming into play, and she had always been partial to the spring-exclusive treat.
“I’ll throw in some of the ichigo daifuku in for free,” she assured Ochako, who pumped her first with a quiet but triumphant “yes!”
While Ochako struggled to decide which of the treats she wanted to purchase, Momo opened the back of the case to pull out the platter of mochi treats. She picked one up and carefully wrapped it in cute pink wax paper, then set it into a white pastry box. The lid was emblazoned with her shop name, cursive writing in shiny, eye-catching gold. Ochako cooed delightedly at it when she caught sight of it.
“Man, Momo, you sure thought of everything,” she praised. “Your shop is going to take off in no time!”
“I sure hope so,” Momo sighed in response.
She had devoted much time and energy into her preparations, exploring every avenue and having contingencies for her contingencies, but the threat of failure always loomed like an anvil over her head. What if her shop wasn’t a hit? She’d been open for fifteen minutes now, and her best friend was the only one who’d stopped in. Was her business doomed to fail? Oh, dear, what was she going to do—
“Snap out of it!” Ochako barked and snapped her fingers in front of Momo’s face. Momo’s eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to reign her dizzied mind back in. When she looked blearily at her best friend, she had her arms crossed and her mouth pulled into a frown.
“You’ve been open for fifteen minutes and you’re already doubting yourself, aren’t you?”
“No…” Momo mumbled. It definitely didn’t sound convincing, and she averted her gaze as heat rushed to her cheeks. Ochako heaved a sigh, then reached out to pluck half of the ichigo daifuku from the box.
“Listen, Momo, you’ll take off in no time,” she said, then took a bite of the sweet, chewy mochi. “I mean—oh my God, Momo, this is so good!”
Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by her blissful cry, but honestly, Momo would much rather hear that than whatever lecture she was about to get. Her eyes lit up in delight as Ochako began to chomp away at the mochi, stuffing the bits into her cheeks instead of swallowing so she could savor every little bit.
“Really? You think it’s good?”
“It’s amazing! It’s the best I’ve ever had! I really have died and gone to Heaven…”
Momo gave Ochako another bit of the mochi treat on the house, while Ochako bought some strawberry shortcake to try later. Seeing as no one else was in the shop, Momo escorted her to the door, opening it for her as they continued to chat about Momo’s aspirations. She was right in the middle of bidding Ochako farewell when the words jammed in her throat.
“What? What is it?” Ochako asked around the strawberry currently clamped between her teeth. Momo ignored her, looking around wildly.
Where is it? Where is it coming from? She thought, eyes wide as she looked around in a frenzy. Ochako continued to bleat “What, what?” until Momo frantically wheezed, “My soulmate song.”
It floated on the warm spring air, light and airy like bubbles. It was unmistakable. It resonated in Momo’s soul. That cappuccino blend of jazz and sweet notes that she had known since before she could recognize what music even was. She could recognize it even though it was being played on an acoustic guitar, the deep notes thrumming in the air. Yet the street was empty aside from a few curious onlookers—no street performers, no radios, not even someone listening to a video on their phone. The song seemed to bounce off the brick walls of the buildings, the sound waves colliding in a confusing but beautiful mass of symphony. Momo could only spin in circles on the sidewalk while she tried fruitlessly to pin down the direction that the song was coming from.
When it stopped, Momo’s heart shattered.
“Momo! Momo, hey!” Ochako cried as tears flooded Momo’s eyes. She really wasn’t sure why.
Her soul was weeping at the failed opportunity, wailing deep in her chest. It made everything go tight, so much so that she had to squat down and focus on catching her breath. Ochako soothingly rubbed her back, and though sympathetic words left her friend’s lips, she couldn’t hear them for the white noise rushing in her ears.
There was no mistake. That was definitely her soulmate song. But where could it had come from? She looked up and down the street, and though the landscape was blurred slightly by her tears, there was nothing, no clues to the identity of her soulmate or the source of the music.
“I heard it… I heard it, Ochako…” she said hoarsely. It felt like she’d spent the last ten minutes screaming, the tissue of her throat raw and scratchy and sore. She looked tearily up at her, then whispered, “What if I never hear it again? What if I missed my chance?”
Momo didn’t like to be overly emotional, and she never would have expected that she would have reacted so strongly to this situation. But it literally felt like her heart had been torn out of her chest, leaving a raw, bleeding wound. She groaned, pawing over her chest while half-expecting to really find a bleeding gash. The strums of the guitar strings still rang hollowly in her ears. Would the ghost of this moment be the only taste of her soulmate that she would ever get? The prospect agonized her, pulling a whine from her trembling lips.
“Hey, Momo, snap out of it! It’s just first encounter syndrome.”
Ochako’s voice finally tore Momo out of her emotional turmoil. As she blinked, sending the tears spilling down her ruddy cheeks, she felt like the anxiety swirling inside of her rushed out through her feet. Ochako patted her cheek tenderly as she stood over her, eyebrows knitted in concern.
“First… encounter syndrome?” Momo rasped. Drink, I need a drink…
“Yeah. Sometimes, when people first encounter or get hints of their soulmate, they have an overwhelming emotional reaction.”
Sensing her thoughts, Ochako helped her to her feet, keeping a gentle hand on her elbow as she guided her inside. Though Momo felt much better, her legs were no better than jelly, making her knees knock together as she fumbled to the nearest table. She practically collapsed in the chair, while Ochako rushed behind the counter to get her a glass of water. Momo’s mouth was like a desert now, and so she could only mouth “thank you” before greedily downing the water. She took it in big gulps, not caring about the water that surged out the corners of her lips and dripped down her chin onto her apron.
“Guh…” she breathed when she finally pulled the empty glass from her lips.
“Better?” Ochako smiled weakly as she sat down beside her. Momo nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was dreadfully exhausted, however, and knowing she had to man the shop for the rest of the day made it even worse. “I’ve heard it’s pretty intense. Apparently, Sero had it the first time he met Mina… He broke down bawling right then and there. Couldn’t even say ‘hello’ to her for five whole minutes.”
“I can imagine,” Momo said wearily, sinking into the chair. She was glad she invested in nice cushioning because it sure felt good embracing her shaky body right now.
She spent a minute or so running her sweaty palms up and down the skirt of her dress until the last of the tremors ceased. Ochako sat close to her, comfortingly patting her on the shoulder and distracting her with small talk.
When she finally felt like a person again, Momo cleared her throat and uttered, “So… Do you think I’ll find them? My soulmate?”
“Of course!” Ochako said with an encouraging nod. She gestured to the window with a big smile. “They’re out there! Just waiting for you!” She leaned forward to pat her firmly on the shoulder. “Just wait. You’ll hear your song again, and next time, you’ll find them. You’ll see!”
“Yeah,” Momo hummed in agreement. She sank back into the chair with another soft sigh. “Yeah,” she echoed. I just have to wait. I’ll find them next time!
“Kill me. End me. Snuff out my miserable existence,” Momo groaned, punctuating each word with a bang of her forehead against the counter.
There wasn’t anyone in the café since it was just after closing hours, so her only consolation was the echo of her own head thwack-thwack-thwacking against the wood. Two weeks! It had been two whole weeks! Two weeks of hearing her soulmate song every single day without catching so much as a glimpse of the person playing it. It was driving her insane!
With another long, drawn-out groan, Momo lifted her head to look up at the clock on the wall. The hour hand was inching toward six. She’d better finish cleaning up so she could head on home before it got too dark. Only to lie awake in my bed agonizing over the fact that my soulmate is just out of reach, she thought, hanging her head with yet another groan. She’d rather lament in bed than stand behind the counter of her shop, though, so she forced herself to wipe the crumbs off the counter and sweep them up. She trudged out the door, and just as she was twisting the key into the lock…
she heard it.
“Oh! Oh! Where? Oh!” she sputtered while turning frantically in a circle. Where was it coming from? She had to find it! She couldn’t go another night agonizing over the not knowing anymore! But it seemed like the guitar notes were dancing all around her, mocking her with their perfect symphonic beauty.
“Oh, please, please!” she cried desperately. Tears sprang to her eyes at the crushing realization that she may once again let her soulmate slip through her fingers.
“Please…” Her voice cracked as the notes began to fade, and she slowly sank down into a crouch. She hugged her knees with a miserable sniff. Again…?
No! she asserted, jumping back to her feet and firmly gripping the folds of her dress. I won’t miss my chance this time! She hiked up her skirt and stomped down the sidewalk. She didn’t think about what direction she was going in; she just set off in whatever direction seemed natural. A sixth sense, maybe, an invisible string tugging her along…
And it worked, too, because the music was getting louder.
Oh! Oh, I know this! This is where all the nice restaurants are! Momo realized as the cute little small business district transformed into a streetlamp-lit, hedge-lined swanky locale where men and women in business casual strutted about on nice evening dates or attended business meetings. Her soulmate must be some sort of performer! No wonder she heard them play every night! They must be hired to sing outside of some restaurant to try and entice all the fine people outside to come in and eat. Momo rushed past them all, the heels of her sandals frantically click-click-clicking against the concrete as she followed the sweet notes of the guitar.
Closer, she had to be getting closer! She could feel the notes strumming in her bones, matching the pound of her heartbeat against her ribcage. She could feel them with every pump of blood through her body, soaking into her cells and making her feel alive. It felt like the wind itself was spiriting her along; it swept along her feet and billowed her dress, making her feel like she was running on the music itself.
It was approaching the end of the song. Her heart rate jumped, pulsing in her arteries with each frantic pound of her heart. Faster, faster, she had to move faster! She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. She couldn’t get this close only to fail! She cried out as she stumbled, slipping out of one of her sandals, and she paused to look back at it sitting upside-down on the sidewalk. But there was no time, no time—so she just left it, hobbling awkwardly on the higher sole in her desperate attempt to reach her soulmate before the last chord.
Momo came careening around the corner. Breathless, panting, hair a bit askew, she toddled into the streetlamp on the corner and gripped it tight. She couldn’t go on; her heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest, her lungs were strained to collapsing, and she had a scratch on the bottom of her foot from a raised chip in the concrete. But that was okay.
Because sitting on the stoop of a fancy sushi bar with her legs crossed and her guitar resting on her lap strumming the last chord of the song was her soulmate.
She was ethereal. The fading sunlight blended with the bright light of the streetlamp, and the mix fell into her deep purple strands of hair to make it shine like threads of woven obsidian. When her black eyes flickered up to meet Momo’s, they gleamed like onyx chips in the lowlight. Momo’s heart did a flip in her chest as their gazes locked. Ethereal was the only word she could think of, and it played like a scratched record in her head.
“H-hi,” Momo breathed. She was glad she was clutching the light pole because she would have fallen right over otherwise.
“Hi,” the young woman answered with a bashful smile. She gave Momo a cursory once-over, a quick up-and-down flick of her eyes that nonetheless had Momo’s heart back-flipping in her chest.
“You’re not from around here,” the guitarist remarked, shyness morphing into amused confidence.
“N-No,” Momo confirmed with a shake of her head. Still clutching the light pole like it was her only link to reality, she took a moment to make sure that her thoughts were in order before uttering, “I own a café not far from here.”
“I see.”
The young woman laid her guitar flat on her lap and rested her hands atop its sleek black surface. She made no move to rise or put it in her case, and once more, Momo found her heart fluttering. This girl was giving Momo her full attention! Oh, how nice it was to be noticed. The small act alone nearly made Momo blurt out why she was really there, but she managed to rein in her tongue before it could go flapping. Not everyone subscribed to soulmate culture, and so one had to be tactful when approaching their soulmates.
“So, you play for this restaurant?” Momo asked.
Small talk was good. It was a skill she had honed well in the short time of owning her business. Despite her nervousness, Momo didn’t think it would fail her now. However, she had the wherewithal to realize that her posture was still a little strange, gripping desperately to the streetlamp. Her legs still felt like jelly, but she decided to take the risk; slowly, she straightened up, praying her wiggly legs wouldn’t collapse under her. Somehow, she managed to stay standing.
“That’s right. I play for a few hours each night. The waiting times here get really long, so I’m here to keep them from getting too bored out here,” the girl chuckled with a wave at the sidewalk. As it was early evening, the lines were just beginning to form; no doubt, this sidewalk would soon be swarming with people waiting on their reservations. “I usually break about this time, between the lunch and dinner rush.”
Break… That means if I had waited around a little while, I probably would have found her the first day. Momo wanted to slap herself. Two weeks of agonizing over someone who was far closer than she had ever realized! It was enough to make her want to collapse against the lamppost again. She elected to just stretch her arm out and brace herself against it, make herself seem far more nonchalant than she felt.
“I’m Kyoka Jiro, by the way.”
Kyoka Jiro. Momo discreetly mouthed it, and it felt as sugary on her tongue as she dreamed it would. Perfect, like her name belonged in her mouth.
“Momo Yaoyorozu,” she responded politely.
A pair of businessmen crossed between them, and though Momo knew Kyoka probably wouldn’t disappear in the half a second she couldn’t see her, she still panicked a little. When Kyoka came back into view, still sitting on the sidewalk with a quaint smile, Momo fidgeted nervously. She couldn’t drag this out, else it would become awkward! But she couldn’t jump right in, either. Oh, she wished she had taken Mina up on those lessons in flirting when she’d had the chance…
“I-I can hear you play. From my shop,” Momo piped up before the silence could grow too long.
“Yeah?” Kyoka quirked a brow. Her smile widened, so Momo relaxed a little. It’s going well so far.
“Yeah!” she nodded. She hesitated for a bit, then decided to take another leap of faith.
Timidly, she peeled herself away from the streetlamp to walk over to Kyoka. The musician watched her with those sparkling onyx eyes, but for the life of her, Momo couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Momo sat down on the sidewalk next to her, a respectable distance away but still close enough to maintain a conversation. After making sure her dress wasn’t rumpled up and showing off far too much, she looked at Kyoka with a bashful smile.
“Yes, and I found it quite lovely. That’s why… I decided to venture over here after closing up shop tonight… to see if I could find the source.”
“Really?” Kyoka seemed excited about it. She quickly looked right and left, then leaned in close to Momo. She seemed oblivious to the blush crawling up Momo’s neck, her eyes gleaming as she whispered, “Want to hear a secret?”
“O-oh? Okay, sure…” Momo said, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. She hadn’t expected the conversation to veer this way, but with no hint as to where it was headed, she couldn’t figure out whether or not she should be nervous or not.
“That song I was just playing was my soulmate song.”
“Y-you don’t say?” Momo was trying to seem as unperturbed as possible, but heavens, her voice was shaking and her body was quivering. Kyoka was too in her own world to notice, apparently; she closed her eyes and hugged her guitar close.
“Yep. I play it every day. Of all the music in the world, I think it’s the most beautiful song ever.” She cracked her eye open to peer at Momo out of her peripheral vision, her cheeks growing a little pink. “And… it’s a little embarrassing, but… Sometimes I feel like if I play it, one day, my soulmate will hear it, and they’ll come to find me.”
“Y-yeah?” Momo couldn’t help the excitement that bled into her tone. “So you want to find your soulmate?”
“Absolutely,” Kyoka nodded vigorously. She then looked lovingly down at her guitar; her hand smoothed across its sleek surface in a soft caress. “My soulmate song is why I fell in love with music in the first place. In a way… I have my soulmate to thank for how wonderful my life is.” She suddenly barked out a laugh, and she looked at Momo with an embarrassed grin. “Ugh, why am I telling you all this? I am totally never this gushy and romantic. Ugh, how mortifying…”
“No, it doesn’t bother me at all,” Momo interjected as Kyoka went to scoot away, probably concerned she was bothering Momo at this point. Kyoka’s head snapped up to look at her with wide eyes. Momo dropped her gaze, fiddling with the hem of her dress. She’d obsessed over this moment for days now, practicing exactly what she would say, and yet now none of those words seemed right. She decided to just go for it, say whatever seemed to come to mind—that sixth sense again.
“I don’t think anyone should be embarrassed about their soulmate. After all, it’s just so grand… The idea of someone out there being made for you, and the fact that you two share a unique bond. You can’t help but get excited.”
Kyoka seemed to relax at that. She hummed thoughtfully, looking down at her guitar again. While she was preoccupied, Momo took a moment to drink her in. She really was beautiful. Looking at her made Momo feel completely at peace—like the way she felt when she was at the shop in the early morning preparing all the pastries or when she was at home after a long day at work, unwinding with a book and a cup of tea. Looking at her made it feel like something in Momo’s world had finally clicked into place.
Undeniably, unequivocally, they were meant to be.
“By the way… I think it’s the most beautiful song in the world, too,” Momo whispered suddenly. Kyoka looked up at her then, her eyebrows cinched in confusion. Slowly, her perplexion morphed into shocked understanding. Momo reached out to place her hand over Kyoka’s. Her fingers twitched but didn’t recoil at Momo’s touch. “Our soulmate song.”
“Y-yeah?” Kyoka managed to choke out.
It was a wonder with how wide she was grinning right now. It made her obsidian eyes scrunch up into little crescent moons, and little tears beaded up like diamonds at their corners. When Kyoka tilted her head slightly, they slipped over the rims of her eyes to spill in thin rivers down her flushed cheeks. She smiled adoringly at Momo for a long time, just basking in the glow of the moment, before her eyes slowly dropped down to Momo’s lips.
Kyoka breathed in quietly, and then whispered, “Can I… Can I kiss you?”
Momo flushed, but nodded in consent. Kyoka shifted, adjusting the guitar on her lap so it wouldn’t get in the way. Slowly, she leaned close. Her gaze drifted back up to Momo’s eyes. They held the heady stare until Kyoka’s lips just barely brushed over Momo’s, and then Momo couldn’t help but let her eyelids fall shut. She wanted to shut everything out, to just focus on the heavenly feeling of Kyoka’s lips gently molding against hers. And oh, did it feel divine. Kyoka’s lips slotted perfectly against hers, soft and sweet and faintly tasting of elderberry. It felt so good that she found herself chasing Kyoka when she pulled back, and the girl just leaned her forehead against hers with a little giggle.
“Wanna stay with me a while?” Kyoka offered.
“There isn’t anywhere else in the world I would rather be,” Momo said back. Because finally, she’d found her place in the world—right there next to Kyoka.
#momojiro#momojirou#jiromomo#jiroumomo#momo yaoyorozu#yaoyorozu momo#jiro kyoka#jirou kyoka#jiro kyouka#jirou kyouka#kyoka jiro#kyouka jiro#kyoka jirou#kyouka jirou#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia#bnha
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Grateful Dead Meetup at the Movies Returns from Pandemic Hiatus
- Denmark 4/17/72 finds band not blowing a big gig
Infamous for choking on the biggest stages, the Grateful Dead nevertheless stepped up for their first major television broadcast and Denmark’s inaugural televised concert.
It took place April 17, 1972, and the captured-on-video portions of the performance - 90 minutes; 13 songs - show the band in playful, yet serious, form.
The never-seen-in-America gig screened Nov. 1 in select cinemas as Grateful Dead Meetup at the Movies returned for the first time since 2019. In a pre-recorded greeting, band archivist David Lemieux said it should continue as an annual event for the foreseeable future.
On the playful side, the musicians don their famous Europe ’72 Bozo masks during “Big Railroad Blues,” though Jerry Garcia doffs his before digging into a searing solo. Bob Weir acknowledges the cameras with goofy faces. And bassist Phil Lesh leads the guitarists in a round of on-mic gibberish in complaining about balky monitors.
Then there’s the music; sweet, serious music.
Pigpen, on his final tour with the band, comes front and center armed with his harp for a lowdown “It Hurts Me Too,” with Garcia on slide, and “Next Time You See Me.” He remains seated behind his organ, with a Steal Your Face logo draped over the front, for the rollicking “Chinatown Shuffle;” taken together, these performances make the viewer wonder how the Dead’s long, strange trip might have unfolded if the man born Ron McKernan hadn’t died at 27.
Pigpen brought the blues. Weir took them to the country, offering Marty Robbins’ “El Paso,” highlighted by Garcia’s constant scribbling, and Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” to the Danish fans.
In the band less than a year, pianist Keith Godchaux already sounds like he’d been there forever. His wife, background singer Donna Jean Godchaux - who’d just joined - doesn’t appear in the film.
The Dead used this TV appearance to play the first “He’s Gone” - it’s fast with no vocal coda - and early versions of never-recorded-in-studio tracks such as “Ramble on Rose” and “Jack Straw;” the latter sung entirely by Weir at this stage of its development.
Though they would overdub harmony vocals for the resultant Europe ’72 album, the Dead - specifically Garcia, Weir and Lesh - sing pretty well on this evening.
And when it’s time to rock ‘n’ roll, Weir brings that, too, with a purposeful version of “Truckin’” - replete with muffed vocals - and a screaming “One More Saturday Night,” which finds entourage member Rosie McGee dancing onstage as if no one was watching.
Of course, the young hippies of Denmark were turned on, tuned in and watching. And you can, too; the two-nights-only event returns to select theaters Nov. 5.
There’s nothing like a Grateful Dead Meetup at the Movies.
11/2/22
#grateful dead meet up at the movies#grateful dead#jerry garcia#bob weir#phil lesh#pigpen#ron pigpen mckernan#bill kreutzmann#keith godchaux#donna jean godchaux#europe ’72#marty robbins#kris kristofferson#david lemieux
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