Calhoun School - Ink Pot Yearbook (New York, NY)

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ink pot contemporary music hath its charms CONTEMPORARY music has aT lasT won iTs way To an imporTanT place in my musical Thoughfs. NoT so long ago, modern music appeared To me To confain iusT a series of weird, inharmonious noTes, wriTTen wiTh an uTTer disregard for paTTern or Theme. I was noT a Ii++Ie bewildered by if. However, Through much reiTeraTion. I have become accusTomed To iTs sTrange beauTy. and have even grown To love much of iT. BuT, There is s+iII modern music which sounds monoTonously uninspired and some which graTes on my ears. The beauTy in conTemporary music differs greaTl from ThaT of The classics. Brahms. BeeThoven. and MozarT sTaTed Their Themes aT The beginning of Their compo- siTions, and buiIT up numerous variafions around Them, whereas The modern composer will someTimes build up and up. before wriTing his Theme, which ofTen comes near The end of The piece. This. of course, makes The music much more difficulf To comprehend. and ofTen requires much repeTiTion To make iTseIf clear. ' I Think my favorife modern composifion is one by Debussy. His music alwa s gives me The feeling of being aparT from anyfhing ThaT is ear+hIy and maTTer-of-flacT. IT makes me experience a feeling of noT belonging To This everyday world of ours. The composifion is his Three Symphonic Skefches of The Sea. The firsf is called From Dawn To Moon aT Sea. The second. FroIics of The Waves. and The Third. Dialogue of Wind and Sea. I remember very disTincTly The firsT Time I heard This marvelous piece of music. IT was in Cleveland, The firsT year I had had a season Tickef To The Symphon ConcerTs. I was greaTIy excifed and Thrilled, and felT very grown up. When I heard! The eerie. opening bars of The firsT skefch, I could noT quiTe decide whaT To make of iT. Up To ThaT Time, I had heard very Ii++Ie modern music. As The music progressed, cerTain un- earThly chords and sequences chilled me Through and Through. During The whole per- formance, I grasped very IiTTIe of The acfual beauTy and depTh of The music. I only knew ThaT iT impressed me Tremendously. I was relieved when iT was finished. The nexT Time I heard This Debussy composiTion, I was several years older, and much beTTer equipped and mafured, musically, To aTTempT This Tremendous piece of music. This Time, from The opening bars, I saT enfranced. The conducfor, who sfood before me, waved his arms, and The orchesfra produced This beauTiful, efhereal music, which swelled To The deafening crescendoes of Trolicking seas, Then fell away To The sooThing murmurs of waTer falling over rocks, and from That fainT sound, away To nofh- ingness. IT was enchanTing. In This glorious world of sound, I feIT myself To be iusf an infinifesimal drop. The music expressed so clearly whaT The TiTles implied. I could almosT imagine The conversaTion befween The wind and The sea. When iT was finished, l had a very collapsed feeling inside of me. I had lisTened To Truly greaT music. Confemporary music has grown considerably in The IasT Tew years, and, To suc- ceed, needs only a more ToIeranT audience who will nof fear iT. FRANCES SHAPIRO. '38 pe-nsee d'amour Je pense a Toi quand Ie soleil se Ieve, J'y pense encore quand il finiT son cours, ET si parfois dans mon sommeil, ie reve C'esT au bonheur de vous aimer Touiours. RHODA MINTZ. '37. TwenTy-four

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ink pol do, mi, sol, do! DO, Ml, SOL, DO! Scales and arpeggios! Breafhing exercises! Sonia was Tired of Them all. Always pracficing and rehearsing wifh The piano! Never any fun! And Professor Giovanni was so hard To please. She remembered, in a bursf of self- pify, ThaT only yesferday, when The inTeresTing-looking young arTisT from The Third floor had asked her To go wiTh him To The sTreeT fair, she had begged The professor for per- mission To go. BuT, as usual, he had said, No! l-le Told her, as he had counfless Times before, ThaT she was There To work, noT To gallivanf around. She ThoughT, wifh a deep sense of iniury, abouf The Time when The whole group of sfruggling sTudenTs in her house had gone gondoliering. ThaT had also been denied her. The professor always had a logical answer To ward off These re uesTs, buf eighfeen does noT care for logic. IT would rafher have fun. She realized, of course, Thaf her scholarship would noT lasf forever, buf Then, one was noT young forever, eifher. Sonia Thou hT back To her firsf days in lTaly. How Thrilled and bewildered she had been! lT had ai seemed like a dream. Prior To coming To lfaly, There had been The audifion aT The lvlefropolifan in New York, before a group of imposing, seasoned musi- cians. She remembered clearly The sick feeling aT The piT of her sfomach, The dry Throaf and perspiring hands. Then, as she began To sing and, liTTle by liTTle, gained confidence and volume, her lovely voice rang ouT in all iTs prisfine beaufy, and won The favorable decision, sending her To lfaly To Professor Giovanni, for The finishing Touches she needed. Now, here she was, Tired of iT all, aching for a biT of fun. While she saT There, sympafhizing wiTh herself, Professor Giovanni rushed in ex- cifeclly, followed by a raTher small, disfinguished-looking man wifh rnusfache and goafee, aT whom he gazed wifh reverence. l'le called To Sonia, in a voice shaking wifh excifemenf and anxieTy, To bring The music for The Bell Song from Lakme. Coming for- ward wifh The music, she gasped, for she recognized The liTTle man as The famous direc- Tor of The Venice Opera House. Sonia knew, as all singers in lTaly knew, Thaf, if he gave you a conTracT wiTh The Opera House, you were as good as made. The rofessor infroduced her. She gazed wifh awe aT The direcfor, noTicing The bored indifference on his face as he glanced aT her. Walking over To The piano. she Took a deep breafh and began To sing, pouring her hearT and soul inTo making The beaufiful Tones of The Bell Song ring True. When she had finished, There was a deep silence. She scarcely dared To breafhe. Then The direcfor walked over and, wiTh all his indifference gone, solemnly kissed her on The forehead. The nexT morning, gay Trills and joyous scales were ringing ouT over The whole house, for, had she noT a conTracT wiTh The Venice Opera l-louse? No work or pracfice seemed Too greaf a sacrifice. Going To sTreeT fairs wiTh handsome, young arTisTs, gon- doliering wifh gay young people, whaT did These amounf To compared wiTh do, mi, sol, do! Scales and arpeggios! Breafhing exercises! Sonia loved Them all! FRANCES SHAPIRO, '38 memories of babyhood A fleefing kiss on my Tousled head, Which seems To ward away all harm. A cloudy figure by my bed, She driffs away as in a dream A sweeT aroma fills The air, And Mr. Sandman sways The scene, As Mommy says a silenf prayer. And on I driff To ofher lands A slighf caress on my baby arm Conscious of proTecTive hands. ESTELLE WYNER, '40 fwenfy-Three

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ink pot uncle alfie and his adventures U NCLE ALFIE was noT having a very pleasanf Time in The wilds of Arizona. lT all began when, one day, swimming in a small lake, he found ThaT his cloThes, which he had hung on The limb of a Tree, were gone. Poor Alfie! IT cerTainly wasn'T very digni- fied for a cerTified public accounTanT To race all over The place, aTTired only in MoTher NaTure's ouTfiT, pursuing his Two nephews whom he righffully suspecfed of having hid- den his cloThes. He finally caughT Them-and ThaT was ThaT. Every day, insTead of helping To clean The Trailer in which They were Traveling, Alf would say, Now, boys. leT's geT To work, and he would proceed To clean ouT his pipe. One day. his broTher-in-law said, Alfred, you don'T know how To clean a pipe. LeT me show you g and wiTh ThaT he em Tied The pipe. When Alfie's back was Turned, he pulled some hairs from The Tail ofia donkey sfanding near by, chopped Them up To- geTher wiTh some pieces of rubber bands, sfuffed Them inTo The pipe sTem, Then puT some Tobacco in The pipe. and gave iT back To iTs owner. Alfie liT iT, Took a puff-whaT in The world! Quickly he Took The Tobacco ouT of The pipe and refilled iT: The same Thing happened. He swore, buT iT sfayed ThaT way for a long Time, as Uncle Alf did noT wanT To clean The pipe for fear of insulTing his brofher-in-law by hinTing ThaT he had noT cleaned iT well. BuT alas, ThaT was noT The end of Alfie's Troubles. They wenT on a Trip The nexT day up To Rainbow Bridge, a wonder of naTure which so few people go To see because iT is so difficulT To geT To. They sTopped Their horses when They arrived There To see This marvelous sighT: everyone was looking and admiring iT, when up piped Alfie. as he nudged his brofher-in-law, Morris, look, There is Rainbow Bridge! Remarkable, wasn'T iT? ThaT nighT when The canTeens were being filled, one of The generous, ThoughTful liTTle boys ThoughT iT would be a cuTe idea To fill Uncle Alfie's wiTh four pollywogs, which he prompfl did. ThaT evening The boys, on examining The canTeen, saw There were only Three leflf. Uncle Alf, in all probabiliTy, had swallowed one. I am glad To sTaTe ThaT he survived-which only goes To prove ThaT whaT you don'T know won'T Trouble you. MARGARET HARTIG, '4I . age of youth Sixfeen years and baby face He approached her wiTh a grin, Prefends To be a man- Assumed a cocky air. Tries To arran e a hoT embrace His e es drank in her figure Thin VViTh any girlie can. And hasfily whispered a prayer. One day he passed upon The sTreeT He opened his mouTh and said, Hi Kid! A nifTy blonde in black. A sharp slap sTruck his cheek- As he winked, she clicked her feel' His blushing face he benT and hid And Turned her lovely back. And since has been quiTe meek. Sullenly and puT in place, SixTeen years and baby face He sadly looked around, No more assumes an air. And The ideal girl of all his dreams On Safurday nighT aT Ten o'clock He Thoughf ThaT he had found. He's in his bed upsfairs. BEVERLY GOLDSTEIN, '39 TwenTy-five