Anna Goldsworthy
Autore di Piano Lessons: A Memoir
Sull'Autore
Opere di Anna Goldsworthy
Opere correlate
Etichette
Informazioni generali
- Data di nascita
- 1974
- Sesso
- female
- Nazionalità
- Australia
- Luogo di nascita
- Adelaide, South Australia, Australia
- Luogo di residenza
- Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
- Istruzione
- University of Melbourne (PhD - Musical Arts)
- Attività lavorative
- pianist
- Relazioni
- Goldsworthy, Peter (father)
Utenti
Recensioni
Melting Moments di Anna Goldsworthy
DNF. Interesting issues but superficially treated.
I must admit that my heart sank when this book turned up in the mail—not another one about the war, I thought—but it's not at all what I was expecting. It's primarily concerned with how the arts, and drama in particular, can articulate things about the tragedy of war in ways that can't otherwise be expressed.
Beyond the Stage, Creative Australian Stories from the Great War is a fully illustrated book of essays to accompany the 2018 exhibition 'Beyond the Stage: aspects of performing arts in South Australia, 1914–1936', which was held at the State Library of South Australia. You can see some of the images here.
The introduction to the book reproduces things I knew anyway, though others may not. From packing up the estate of my piano teacher Valda Johnstone, and from writing her memoir, I knew a lot about how Australia's creatives were active in supporting the war with songs and marching music, poetry, concerts, and fundraising for the troops. Valda's parents, Frank and Myra Johnstone, were musicians who were very active during WW1, and amongst Valda's effects there were numerous musical scores and programs from their fundraising and entertainment concerts for the troops, as well as Valda's own contributions during WW2.
These boxes of memorabilia BTW have all been deposited at the State Library of Victoria, where, for example, you can find the scores for music that they played at concerts during and after the war when fundraising for the wounded. There's an Allied Forces March by Felix Godin from 1914; The Flying Ace March from 1919; Day, (a marching song) by Guy D'Hardelot from 1915, and Heroes of the Empire, a march by Craigie Ross, orchestrated by Percy E. Fletcher. There's also (since Valda was born in NZ and always considered herself a Kiwi though she came to Australia as a very little girl) the very patriotic New Zealand the land, 'neath the Southern Cross, words by G.A. Troup with music by D.A. Kenny from 1915. Just type Valda Johnstone into the search box at the SLV if you are interested. Her papers also include some poems; a large collection of photographs, autograph portraits of the Great Composers; her AMEB exam certificates, and hand made posters. One day, when I finish the last chapter of the memoir, I'll deposit that too.
For those who know little about this entertainment and fundraising aspect of Australia's wars, or who are researching this period of our history, the Introduction in Beyond the Stage will be a revelation. The full colour reproductions of handbills, musical scores and photos of performances are fascinating, and the focus on the role of women is refreshing.
For me, however, the most interesting essay is by historian Bruce Scates who is unequivocal in his distaste for the lavish spectacles of the Anzac Centenary and the grotesque installation at Villers-Bretonneux in particular. He begins his essay with an excerpt from the diary of Nurse Elizabeth Tranter, too busy with the wounded to celebrate the armistice on 11th November, but recording instead the cruel death of a boy she calls 'Sunny Jim'. He goes on to write about the cost of war to the casualties who came home with terrible injuries:
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/02/08/beyond-the-stage-edited-by-anna-goldsworthy-...… (altro)
Beyond the Stage, Creative Australian Stories from the Great War is a fully illustrated book of essays to accompany the 2018 exhibition 'Beyond the Stage: aspects of performing arts in South Australia, 1914–1936', which was held at the State Library of South Australia. You can see some of the images here.
The introduction to the book reproduces things I knew anyway, though others may not. From packing up the estate of my piano teacher Valda Johnstone, and from writing her memoir, I knew a lot about how Australia's creatives were active in supporting the war with songs and marching music, poetry, concerts, and fundraising for the troops. Valda's parents, Frank and Myra Johnstone, were musicians who were very active during WW1, and amongst Valda's effects there were numerous musical scores and programs from their fundraising and entertainment concerts for the troops, as well as Valda's own contributions during WW2.
These boxes of memorabilia BTW have all been deposited at the State Library of Victoria, where, for example, you can find the scores for music that they played at concerts during and after the war when fundraising for the wounded. There's an Allied Forces March by Felix Godin from 1914; The Flying Ace March from 1919; Day, (a marching song) by Guy D'Hardelot from 1915, and Heroes of the Empire, a march by Craigie Ross, orchestrated by Percy E. Fletcher. There's also (since Valda was born in NZ and always considered herself a Kiwi though she came to Australia as a very little girl) the very patriotic New Zealand the land, 'neath the Southern Cross, words by G.A. Troup with music by D.A. Kenny from 1915. Just type Valda Johnstone into the search box at the SLV if you are interested. Her papers also include some poems; a large collection of photographs, autograph portraits of the Great Composers; her AMEB exam certificates, and hand made posters. One day, when I finish the last chapter of the memoir, I'll deposit that too.
For those who know little about this entertainment and fundraising aspect of Australia's wars, or who are researching this period of our history, the Introduction in Beyond the Stage will be a revelation. The full colour reproductions of handbills, musical scores and photos of performances are fascinating, and the focus on the role of women is refreshing.
For me, however, the most interesting essay is by historian Bruce Scates who is unequivocal in his distaste for the lavish spectacles of the Anzac Centenary and the grotesque installation at Villers-Bretonneux in particular. He begins his essay with an excerpt from the diary of Nurse Elizabeth Tranter, too busy with the wounded to celebrate the armistice on 11th November, but recording instead the cruel death of a boy she calls 'Sunny Jim'. He goes on to write about the cost of war to the casualties who came home with terrible injuries:
Splinters of shrapnel worked their way through bodies, gassed soldiers coughed out their lungs, cot cases confined to iron beds slowly wasted away. 'Nervy' men took their own lives, haunted by the things they had seen and done. One man—a war hero awarded the Military Medal at Passchendaele—battered his wife and four-year-old daughter to death with a hammer. Then, with equally terrible resolution, slit his own throat. Others succumbed to the syndrome of what was called 'the burnt out digger'. They survived the war, but not the peace. They died prematurely aged.
How many lives did the Great War really claim? At the Australian War Memorial 60,000 names gleam in gold midst a forest of scarlet poppies. But filed away in the archives are the names of men and women who died in repatriation hospitals decades after the fighting ended. For a time the Memorial debated if these should be included in the list of official casualties. It proved too difficult and too confronting to measure the real cost of war. (p.129)
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/02/08/beyond-the-stage-edited-by-anna-goldsworthy-...… (altro)
'Melting Moments' are super-sweet biscuits, which are totally delicious but are cloyingly sweet if you eat too many of them. They are a good metaphor for Anna Goldsworthy's venture into writing fiction.
Ruby Jenkins marries in patriotic haste during WW2, because that's what women did in those days. (Or so this book would have you believe). She has been to charm school, learned the importance of having a feminine presence, and is ready to please a man because that's how things are. (Or so this book would have you believe.) She has a tiresome caricature of a mother-in-law, who conforms to all the stereotypes, because that's how mothers-in-law were. (Or so this book would have you believe.) And eventually, she has a Whitlam-era daughter, who rebels against conservative norms and has A Life of Her Own. (Or so this book would have you believe.) On and off, Ruby questions her missed opportunities, which mostly revolve around men (and not, for instance, on whether she might have taken advantage of the Whitlam reforms to get herself the education that she missed out on, and then take up the late-start career that launched so many of us into independence and self-fulfilment).
Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique aside, we all know women who did not conform to these stereotypes, and Melting Moments would be a much more interesting novel if the characterisation cast a wider net to include them.
(My late MIL, born in 1924, for instance, was at Monash at the same time as The Spouse, and graduated with her Bachelor of Social Work in 1978, thanks to Whitlam who gave women these opportunities by making university free.)
There is a novel waiting to be written about the tectonic shifts in social norms that took place in the sixties and seventies. The relationship between mothers who missed out and daughters who didn't is also well worth exploring in fiction. But the relentlessly domestic Melting Moments is not that book.
To see links to professional reviewers who disagree with me, please visit my blog https://anzlitlovers.com/2020/05/29/melting-moments-by-anna-goldsworthy/… (altro)
Ruby Jenkins marries in patriotic haste during WW2, because that's what women did in those days. (Or so this book would have you believe). She has been to charm school, learned the importance of having a feminine presence, and is ready to please a man because that's how things are. (Or so this book would have you believe.) She has a tiresome caricature of a mother-in-law, who conforms to all the stereotypes, because that's how mothers-in-law were. (Or so this book would have you believe.) And eventually, she has a Whitlam-era daughter, who rebels against conservative norms and has A Life of Her Own. (Or so this book would have you believe.) On and off, Ruby questions her missed opportunities, which mostly revolve around men (and not, for instance, on whether she might have taken advantage of the Whitlam reforms to get herself the education that she missed out on, and then take up the late-start career that launched so many of us into independence and self-fulfilment).
Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique aside, we all know women who did not conform to these stereotypes, and Melting Moments would be a much more interesting novel if the characterisation cast a wider net to include them.
(My late MIL, born in 1924, for instance, was at Monash at the same time as The Spouse, and graduated with her Bachelor of Social Work in 1978, thanks to Whitlam who gave women these opportunities by making university free.)
There is a novel waiting to be written about the tectonic shifts in social norms that took place in the sixties and seventies. The relationship between mothers who missed out and daughters who didn't is also well worth exploring in fiction. But the relentlessly domestic Melting Moments is not that book.
To see links to professional reviewers who disagree with me, please visit my blog https://anzlitlovers.com/2020/05/29/melting-moments-by-anna-goldsworthy/… (altro)
In my early teens, one of my favourite books was Maestro by Peter Goldsworthy. The relationship between music and artist, teacher and student, the forever-pursuit for an ever-out-of-reach elusive level of musicality, and the eventual disappointment of middle-age really appealed to my martyr-cynic youth.
This book is the real story, the real Paul who in this book is Anna Goldsworthy herself, whose father essentially cannibalised the wonderful Mrs Sivan for his book. This book however, is a much more honest and real account of the journey, the stamina, the commitment, and eventually at some stage, the passion for music, that a pianist (and any other musician) requires. It was marvelous to find out that Mrs Sivan is the passionate larger-than-life piano teacher that Herr Keller was based on because the music/composer analysis was my favourite part of Maestro.
And of course, Goldsworthy's growth from high-achieving child, whose interest in piano was purely academic and rote, to the high-achieving pianist who loves music for its own sake, it was exhilarating and joyful to read.… (altro)
This book is the real story, the real Paul who in this book is Anna Goldsworthy herself, whose father essentially cannibalised the wonderful Mrs Sivan for his book. This book however, is a much more honest and real account of the journey, the stamina, the commitment, and eventually at some stage, the passion for music, that a pianist (and any other musician) requires. It was marvelous to find out that Mrs Sivan is the passionate larger-than-life piano teacher that Herr Keller was based on because the music/composer analysis was my favourite part of Maestro.
And of course, Goldsworthy's growth from high-achieving child, whose interest in piano was purely academic and rote, to the high-achieving pianist who loves music for its own sake, it was exhilarating and joyful to read.… (altro)
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Statistiche
- Opere
- 6
- Opere correlate
- 4
- Utenti
- 187
- Popolarità
- #116,277
- Voto
- 3.9
- Recensioni
- 20
- ISBN
- 42
- Lingue
- 1