The following is one of the essays from a new book of same that I am about to (try to) peddle. Of all the essays in the collection, this one is the mot straightforwardly narrative, the others being —what?— lyrical. 1957
What an intricate, sad story. What a mess, too. Queen for a Day, Bobo at the window, and Mrs D singing in her underwear. The orchestration sets all the elements vibrating together. Really nice.
What an intricate, sad story. What a mess, too. Queen for a Day, Bobo at the window, and Mrs D singing in her underwear. The orchestration sets all the elements vibrating together. Really nice.