Two years ago, I reported the death of Decca, one of the last major classical record labels. My column drew hysterical reactions from toadies of the music industry, prompting one of them to write a web article proclaiming that Norman Lebrecht was dead. 

Well, not quite.

What happened at Decca was that Chris Roberts, then head of classics and jazz at Universal, decided in a late act of spite to wind down the label and leave in in the hands of one executive and a receptionist. Roberts was fired last summer by the Universal chief operating officer, Max Hole. Costa Pilavachi, a former head of Decca, was brought back in a senior role, and the pair have been re-assessing the business top to bottom.
An announcement will be made in the next few days, I hear, that Decca is to be relaunched next month as Decca Classics, hinged to Universal Music UK and no longer governed from afar. Paul Moseley will remain as managing director of a reinforced team and new signings are on the cards.
This is a rare shaft of exceptionally good news for the classical music business, and an even rarer instance of a corporation admitting it made a really bad move and making swift amends.
It does not mean the rebirth of classical recording, but it does mean the decline will be managed in future with a good deal more sensitivity and commonsense.
Decca was declared dead by Universal (and not by me). It is now risen again.

Two years ago, I reported the death of Decca, one of the last major classical record labels. My column drew hysterical reactions from toadies of the music industry, prompting one of them to write a web article proclaiming that Norman Lebrecht was dead. 

Well, not quite.

What happened at Decca was that Chris Roberts, then head of classics and jazz at Universal, decided in a late act of spite to wind down the label and leave in in the hands of one executive and a receptionist. Roberts was fired last summer by the Universal chief operating officer, Max Hole. Costa Pilavachi, a former head of Decca, was brought back in a senior role, and the pair have been re-assessing the business top to bottom.
An announcement will be made in the next few days, I hear, that Decca is to be relaunched next month as Decca Classics, hinged to Universal Music UK and no longer governed from afar. Paul Moseley will remain as managing director of a reinforced team and new signings are on the cards.
This is a rare shaft of exceptionally good news for the classical music business, and an even rarer instance of a corporation admitting it made a really bad move and making swift amends.
It does not mean the rebirth of classical recording, but it does mean the decline will be managed in future with a good deal more sensitivity and commonsense.
Decca was declared dead by Universal (and not by me). It is now risen again.

The German film powerhouse, best remembered for the last days of Hitler film titled (in English) Downfall, has died of a heart attack aged 61.

Eichinger wrote the screenplay for Downfall and was its producer. He also produced The Name of the Rose (1986), Perfume (2006) and another 20 movies. As a director, he was reponsible for a ghastly Parsifal in Berlin five years ago and fast forgotten.
The three epic films will be remembered so long as poeple watch cinema.

The German film powerhouse, best remembered for the last days of Hitler film titled (in English) Downfall, has died of a heart attack aged 61.

Eichinger wrote the screenplay for Downfall and was its producer. He also produced The Name of the Rose (1986), Perfume (2006) and another 20 movies. As a director, he was reponsible for a ghastly Parsifal in Berlin five years ago and fast forgotten.
The three epic films will be remembered so long as poeple watch cinema.

The love fest between Philharmonic conductor Alan Gilbert and the New York Times has reached a point where they need to consider solemnising the relationship.

Since the New Year, the Times chief music critic Anthony Tommasini has been engaged in one of the most vapid pieces of journa-listing in recent memory, compiling a chart of the 10 greatest composers of all time. Tommasini’s definition of ‘greatest’ is so vague that no intelligent purpose can be served by such an exercise, except to fill vacant space in the Times and in the minds of its editors.
Many readers have responded with contempt. But just as the futile blether is fading to blank, up pops Alan Gilbert on his blog with expressions of surprise and delight at the brilliance of the Times, and of Tommasini, his leader of cheerleaders.
‘I followed it with great interest,’ trills Gilbert. ‘It is reminiscent of one of my favorite parlor games.’ Read the rest of the fest for yourselves, before heaving. 
This mutual admiration society is now officially a public affair. It may soon require the blessing of Mayor Bloomberg on the steps of City Hall.
————————————–

Alan Gilbert Mulls Over The
Times
‘s Top 10 And the Question of “Greatness,” in CURIOUSLY RANDOM
Blog on MusicalAmerica.com

 

In today’s entry,
Alan Gilbert considers the question of “greatness” with regard to classical
composers. The thought was sparked by Anthony Tommasini’s recent article listing
the Top 10 composers of all time. The Music Director ponders: “How many
composers can we think of who were not considered to be great until many years
had passed? Does this mean that their music was not ‘great’ until long after it
was written?”

 

 

Click here to
read Alan Gilbert’s blog.

Alan Gilbert by Chris Lee

The love fest between Philharmonic conductor Alan Gilbert and the New York Times has reached a point where they need to consider solemnising the relationship.

Since the New Year, the Times chief music critic Anthony Tommasini has been engaged in one of the most vapid pieces of journa-listing in recent memory, compiling a chart of the 10 greatest composers of all time. Tommasini’s definition of ‘greatest’ is so vague that no intelligent purpose can be served by such an exercise, except to fill vacant space in the Times and in the minds of its editors.
Many readers have responded with contempt. But just as the futile blether is fading to blank, up pops Alan Gilbert on his blog with expressions of surprise and delight at the brilliance of the Times, and of Tommasini, his leader of cheerleaders.
‘I followed it with great interest,’ trills Gilbert. ‘It is reminiscent of one of my favorite parlor games.’ Read the rest of the fest for yourselves, before heaving. 
This mutual admiration society is now officially a public affair. It may soon require the blessing of Mayor Bloomberg on the steps of City Hall.
————————————–

Alan Gilbert Mulls Over The
Times
‘s Top 10 And the Question of “Greatness,” in CURIOUSLY RANDOM
Blog on MusicalAmerica.com

 

In today’s entry,
Alan Gilbert considers the question of “greatness” with regard to classical
composers. The thought was sparked by Anthony Tommasini’s recent article listing
the Top 10 composers of all time. The Music Director ponders: “How many
composers can we think of who were not considered to be great until many years
had passed? Does this mean that their music was not ‘great’ until long after it
was written?”

 

 

Click here to
read Alan Gilbert’s blog.

Alan Gilbert by Chris Lee

Anna Yablonskaya, who lost her life in the Moscow airport outrage, was not a political activist. Privately, she loathed the leaders of Russia and Ukraine but she made few public statements and stuck to what she did best, writing plays and poems. On her blog, a month ago, she wrote: ‘it seems to me that I have very little time.’
Yablonskaya was a pseudonym. The name on her passport was Anna Grigorievna Mashutina.
The violent death of a poet should give us all pause. A minute’s silence at noon? 
Here are two friends’ tributes in Moscow News:

http://themoscownews.com/art/20110126/188365552.html?referfrommn

Anna Yablonskaya
Anna Yablonskaya, who lost her life in the Moscow airport outrage, was not a political activist. Privately, she loathed the leaders of Russia and Ukraine but she made few public statements and stuck to what she did best, writing plays and poems. On her blog, a month ago, she wrote: ‘it seems to me that I have very little time.’
Yablonskaya was a pseudonym. The name on her passport was Anna Grigorievna Mashutina.
The violent death of a poet should give us all pause. A minute’s silence at noon? 
Here are two friends’ tributes in Moscow News:

http://themoscownews.com/art/20110126/188365552.html?referfrommn

Anna Yablonskaya