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Cashen Performance
Liszt Comes Alive In Mann Recital
BY MIKE SCOTT
He got out of his car and walked with a steady
pace across the rocky parking lot through the
grim, drizzled rainy night. As he entered the
large three story building, he increased his
stride down the lengthly corridor, which had
been freshly waxed and cleaned
The thin person approached the main lobby of
ihe building There was laughter and the rushing
back and forth of hostesses and hosts
Within a few minutes everyone had briskly
escaped into Cashen Hall in the Humanities
building, where the compositions of Franz Liszt
were to be performed by George Mann, assistant
professor of piano.
Franz Liszt, one of the greatest composers
during the age of Romanticism was acclaimed
by thousands of Europeans. It was that night that
George Mann brought back the spirit of Liszt to
faculty members and students at West Georgia.
Of the spectators sitting in the audience, a
gentleman in a gray tweed sport suit turned
about and spoke to a gentleman in a red, white
and blue plaid coat. “Did you make all your
majors come or is this an exceptionally good
crowd?'
People were still entering the small am
phitheater type room which you might call the
mini philharmonic hall. The attire of the
Wallets,Keys, Brassiere,
Stolen By Pickpocket
BY VAN THOMASON
“I steal for a living," was the
opening statement of Tom
Powell, pickpocket, who has
stolen over 10 million dollars in
his 15 year career.
Mr. Powell displayed his
talent Tuesday night at the
Social Science lecture hall, to
!he amusement of the moderate
crowd that showed up despite
the rainy weather. The pick
|)ocket was brought to the
campus by the college program
board.
Mr Pow ell came on stage and
Net the mood of the audience
with the ease of a professional
entertainer. He started off with
a few jokes that delighted the
people present and then began
to pick various people at ran
dom from the audience. With
expert skill gained from years
of practice he methodically
proceeded to purloin rings,
belts, keys. pins, cigarettes and
even a young lady’s brassiere,
figure that one out!) much to
the amazement of the par
ticipant as well as the audience.
The excitement never let up
Me continually paced back and
forth across the stage, from one
unsuspecting victim to the
other, handing back what he
-dole while plucking something
else from the unknowing soul.
As Mr. Powell ripped off
people and made wise cracks,
several of the participants who
were seated jumped up with
exclamations of surprise, as if
stung or shocked. But careful
investigation of the chairs
showed nothing. This continued
throughout the program much
to the frustration of those in
volved and the amusement of
the audience.
audience varied from blue jean casual to floor
length after-five dress.
Suddenly, the lights were turned down and the
only ones left on were those above the stage.
There was complete silence and within a blink of
Ihe eye, there he stood. Thin framed with black
tuxedo, white tie and tails, Mann gave a deep
Ihiw as if he were to perform before the Queen
and King of England. The pianist made an about
face and marched over to the black baby grand
piano. He then positioned himself on the black
leather-like stool. He rose his hands gracefully
in the air, which made a monster-like shadow
appear on the golden drapes hanging in the
center of the stage.
Without further hesitation. Mann’s handi
dropped from space and collided with the ivory
keyboard on the piano. A Thunder of rhapsody
was released within the room. Organ Fantasy
and Fugue in G Minor by Bach-Liszt was just one
of the few pieces Mann performed. Others were
“Accent My Greeting” by Schubert-Liszt;
“Spring Night”, Schuman-Liszt; and
“Polonaise” from Eugene Ouegin.
Liszt was a free-thinker and libertine who fieri
the pressure of the world. Everything he wrote
was based on poetic ideas. His music was based
primarily on nature, which was brought out
through the symphonic movements. While Mann
glorified the previous silence of the room, heads
were moving back and forth in rhythmic pat
terns.
One unfortunate fellow who
happened to wear a tie was
(juite shocked when the man of
feathered fingers walked up to
him and cut the tie into three or
four pieces and handed them
back to him. But all’s well that
ends well, for at the end of the
show', Mr. Powell reached
behind the man and the
mutilated tie came in it’s en
tirety No worse for wear.
The climax of the show was
when he sweet talked a young
lady into allowing him to stuff a
black scarf down the front of
her blouse. Then on the count of
three, he pulled the scarf out
and with it came a brassiere
much to the delight of the
audience. Everyone took it in
good humor, even the red faced
girl, and they all seemed to
have an excellent time.
Wt :
Tom Powell (r) picks another pocket.
The Ohio resident said that
he had been in the business of
picking people’s pockets for 15
years. He started his career as
a “joke” in high school. Later,
he went on his first television
appearance, with the Ed
Sullivan Show. From there, he
went on to do all the game
shows like “Truth or Con
sequences” and “What’s My
Line.” He also did guest ap
pearances on the “Sonny and
Cher” and “Johnny Carson’
show. But he says he is
“cutting down” on personal
appearances because he has a
brand new night club in Cin
cinnati, Ohio, called the
Funeral Parlor. He is also a
dentist and has a practice in his
native Cincinnati.
The 36-year-old professional
Continued On Page 15
David Willingham
M
la * dm
Everything blunts and the world keeps on. Ernest Hemingway
For those few of you who are given to reading news articles, you
may have noticed in last week's West Georgian that anew
telephone system is being installed on campus. The article stated
that the new edition of A. G. Bell’s brainchild will cost some $4,000
to install, and run over $25,0(H) dollars more per year to operate
than the present system. That, dear reader, is progress.
There is, it seems, no stopping of progress. Bash him on the head,
kick him in the shin, stomp on his toes, there is nothing that can
slow down, much less halt, the forward motion of that harbinger of
change, old Father Time.
Look all around you and you will see progress. Look anywhere
and you will find signs of man’s forward march from four legged
beast to what he is today: A sophisticated moron.
The phone system is not the only thing that has progressed. Take,
for instance, automobiles. At one time in the dim past cars were at
best slow and unreliable items of transportation. The modern car,
however, is a sleek and powerful piece of machinery capable of
transporting the masses with comfort and speed. Unfortunatley the
gas shortage and lowered speed limits have hampered the ef
fectiveness of the present day automobile, but anew car is still
highly impressive when it smashes into a telephone pole at speeds
well over 100 miles per hour.
The longitivity of automobiles is also another sign of progress.
How many 1954 model cars are still on the road today? Thousands,
Now, how many 20 year old 1974 models are being driven today?
None? Ask yourself that question 20 years from now, the answer
will probably still be the same.
Another area where the human race is making progress is war.
than two hundred years ago an inexpensive to operate, ill
equipped American army was just barely able to defeat the
British nation. Today, at the cost of several billion dollars, we
have the capabilities to blow the entire world back into the Stone
Age in only a matter of minutes. That’s progress.
We are also moving forward in the area of race relations. No
more is there such great animosity between the black race and the
white race. People of all colors are learning to work together in this
new age of progress. No longer need any particular race of people
feel they are inferior. Today both the black man and the white
stand together as equals as thev hurl bricks at bus loads of school
children on the streets of Boston.
Our world is also making progress in the realm of social
problems. The old taboos are falling away as we march forward in
time. The children of this generation are growing up with healthier
attitudes about life than their parents as they are exposed to such
previously untalked about topics as rape, violence, and crime
just by watching the Saturday morning cartoons.
The modern society is also making progress toward conquering
alcoholism and drinking problems. The time was when any man
could get supremely drunk for the sum of two dollars, giving rise to
whole nations of Jeeter Lesters and other shiftless winos. Today,
the modern exorbitant prices of the ancient beverages theoretically
should prevent drunkards. Unfortunately, with the world situation
as it is, more and more people are finding that they have to drink in
order to retain their sanity.
I too. have recently met with progress. It was early one morning,
one of those days when the fog and cold air seem to hang about your
shoulders like a cloak. I stumbled out of the trailer very early,
before the sun or I either one was really awake, and headed for the
grocery store with the singular intent of restoring my supply of
morning tonic: coffee.
I managed to find the entrance to the store and dully dragged
myself back to the coffee aisle. I found a one pound bag of ground
coffee and plopped it down on the check out counter. The girl rang
the bag up and waited while I fished in my pocket for change.
“That’ll be a dollar eighty nine,” she said.
“Eighty nine? Huh? Okay. 1 threw 89 cents on the counter and
started to shuffle out with my purchase.
“Wait a minute,” she said, “you owe me a dollar.’
“What do you mean,”l returned cleverly,“l owe you a dollar
“The coffee is one eighty nine, sir.” She bared a vicious set of
teeth. “You owe me a buck.” . „ , , -
“Do you mean,” said I, awakening rapidly, a lousy pound of
coffee costs $1.89?”
“Yessir.”
“Why?”
“Because this coffee was grown in Columbia.”
“I don’t care if it was grown in the land of Oz. That’s ridiculous.’
“You see, sir, under Columbia’s new economic structure, the
farmers picking the coffee beans have to be paid more, and then
they have to ship it to the coast where it is loaded on ultra-modern
ships and brought to America.”
“So?”
“That all adds up. When the coffee reaches the states it has to be
processed by nice new machinery and then packaged in beautitul
cellophane packages which tests show have consumer appeal."
“So?”
“That costs money, too. Then, of course it has to be handled by
dock hands, truck drivers, stock boys, and cashiers all equipped
with the finest modern devices, naturally.”
I held up a trembling hand to silence her. “What you’re trying to
tell, me, then, is that all these modern techniques have raised the
price of a 59 cent bag of coffee to the belligerent sum of $1.89?”
“Yes sir. That’s progress.’’
Defeated, I paid the dollar and wandered out into the cold mor
ning air.
THI WIST GIOtGIAN OCTOW H
Pyrrhic
Progress
7