Music
Besides having been an accomplished public intellectual, the Renaissance Man Edward Saïd was an accomplished pianist who also worked as the music critic for The Nation magazine; as such, he wrote three books about music: Musical Elaborations (1991); Parallels and Paradoxes: Explorations in Music and Society (2002), co-authored with Daniel Barenboim; and On Late Style: Music and Literature Against the Grain (2006). In Music at the Limits (2007), Saïd said that he found reflections of his ideas about literature and history in music, especially in bold compositions and strong performances. The composer Mohammed Fairouz said that he has been deeply influenced by the writings of Edward Saïd; compositionally, he produced the First Symphony, which alludes to the essay “Homage to a Belly-Dancer'”, about Tahia Carioca; and a piano sonata titled Reflections on Exile, which refers to the eponymous collection of essays.
In 1999, Saïd and Daniel Barenboim co-founded the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, which is composed of young Israeli, Palestinian, and Arab musicians. They also established The Barenboim–Said Foundation in Seville, for which a government-funded foundation was constituted, in 2004, to develop education-through-music projects. Besides managing the West–Eastern Divan Orchestra, the Barenboim–Said Foundation assists with the administration of the Academy of Orchestral Studies, the Musical Education in Palestine project, and the Early Childhood Musical Education Project, in Seville.
Read more about this topic: Edward Said
Famous quotes containing the word music:
“For do but note a wild and wanton herd
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze
By the sweet power of music.”
—William Shake{peare (1564–1616)
“See where my Love sits in the beds of spices,
Beset all round with camphor, myrrh, and roses,
And interlaced with curious devices
Which her apart from all the world incloses!
There doth she tune her lute for her delight,
And with sweet music makes the ground to move,
Whilst I, poor I, do sit in heavy plight,
Wailing alone my unrespected love;”
—Bartholomew Griffin (d. 1602)
“And in the next instant, immediately behind them, Victor saw his former wife.
At once he lowered his gaze, automatically tapping his cigarette to dislodge the ash that had not yet had time to form. From somewhere low down his heart rose like a fist to deliver an uppercut, drew back, struck again, then went into a fast disorderly throb, contradicting the music and drowning it.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977)