Today began on a high note. Ethan Hawke’s documentary about Seymour received a rave review in the New York Times. It was the latest in a series superlatives that synchronized perfectly with the film’s debut in New York City at the Lincoln Center Festival amidst whispers about a probable Oscar nomination.
To many film mavens, it’s been a pleasant surprise that an artistically framed portrait has racked up reams of star-studded notices on its journey from Festival to Festival. (Telluride and Toronto, being the most recent)
Of particular importance in the annals of documentary-making, is the break piano teachers around the world have been longing for. The film’s front and center validation of their often abstract and intangible contributions to humanity may spawn a long-delayed cultural shift. Thanks to High Holy Seymour and his Ethan Apostle, both have inspired a Gospel-like fervor for the Muse that’s only paralleled by a sidebar contribution Seymour added to his creative composing treasury.
No less a coda to his well-published avian collection, BIRDS, Bernstein honored producer, Ethan with a Hawk(e)-dedicated piece of inexorable beauty.
Against a whole tone opener in the Impressionist genre, I would be remiss if I neglected to mention a relevant tie-in to my unpredictably colorful stop-off this afternoon at a well-known supermarket.
As I sauntered over to the deli counter in a bustling area, a woman in my shadow pushed a shopping cart with two mascots perched opposite each other in nature-perfect splendor.
“Alex,” son of the matriarch eagerly spread his wings for the camera with a slight prodding from its owner. And momma bird beamed with pride as junior’s wings were eloquently spread.
What a well-timed set of events, so harmonious with Seymour’s love for music, birds, and other wildlife.
What could have been more precious and pleasing as my day unfolded.
LINKS to Blogs about Seymour