Newspaper Page Text
May 15, 1963
THE SPELMAN SPOTLIGHT
Page 5
AESTHETICALLY SPEAKING
l/l/]usical ^ottincjd
On May 5, the Spelman College Glee Club gave a beautiful concert
at Tabernacle Baptist Church in Augusta, Georgia. The glee club sang
music ranging from the 16th Century period to the contemporary
period. As usual, the group of spirituals arranged by Dr. W. L. James
was one of the highlights of the program.
The glee club members appreciated and enjoyed the warm, kind
hospitality of the people of Augusta.
*****
Last ypar the AtlantaJMorehouse Chorus was privileged to be
one of the few organizations to receive an invitation to appear in
connection with the annual Atlanta Arts Festival held at the city’s
Piedmont Park.
We are happy to report that a similar invitation has been extended
again this y/ear. The AIMS Chorus will perform in this capacity
this year on the evening of May 12, 1963.
Since the chorus does not travel, this will be a welcome excur
sion and an added attraction for its members.
* * * * *
A musical treat is certainly in store for those persons who make
themselves available to the approaching AMS chorus concert on
Sunday, May 19, 1963, at 8:00 p.m. in Sister’s Chapel.
This year the concert will follow a different format, for instead of
the usual type of program, the chorus has undertaken the magnificent
and brilliant oratorio, “Elijah” by Mendelssohn. This massive work
will be performed by both the chorus and the Spelman Orchestra.
As a work of the famous Romantic period (the early l'9th century),
this composition contains both soul-stirring beauty and a touch of
the modern idiom. Just to hear the chorus in rehearsal gives one a
thrill, so imagine what the actual performance will be like. Won’t you
come and join us? Winna & Bet
Frederick O'Neill Stars In
Death Of A Salesman
Atlanta University’s Twenty-
Second Annual Exhibition of
Paintings, Sculpture and Prints
by Negro Artists has now closed.
It was, it seems, one of the best
exhibits seen there is the past
few years. More than likely, the
judges had a difficult time try
ing to pick the prize-winners
from among the many entries. In
the media of oils, two top prizes
were given—one to John Arter-
bery’s Ceres and the other to
Clavin Burnett’s Insect. Among
the water colors, there were also
two winners — Jimmie Moseley’s
Johannesburg, and Norma Mor
gan’s Ghost Light. Likewise,
there were two for sculpture and
the graphic arts. In sculpture,
William Artis won for his A
Mother’s Love and Jack Jordan
for African Decree. In graphics
Self-Portrait by James Reed and
Head of Boy by Jack Adams
won first and second awards res
pectively.
My personal choice was an
oil by William Johnson entitled
The Way of the Flesh. Mr. John
son conveyed what seemed to be
his feeling of what happens when
one follows the way of the flesh.
fOCUS on JAZZ
I do hope most of you got out
to the Municipal Auditorium to
the concert on April 22. If not,
you missed a real treat. “Moms”
Mabley was at her funniest and
even added a note of music of
her own which she called
“opera.’’ This however, is not our
greatest concern. For us jazz
fans, Dakota Station was more
than good. Her edition of the
“Late, Late Show” included tunes
This feeling of loss, he shows
through his elongated, faceless
figures which seem to be in
mourning for the two lost souls
traveling down the long corrider
of dispair. His colors—black,
purples and greens—also add
to this feeling of anguish. To me,
the idea is very emphatically
presented.
If you missed this exhibit, try
not to miss another one. Keep
abreast of art shows and thereby
add to your cultural appreciat
ion.
from most of her albums. The
ones which were most impressive
were “My Funny Valentine” (a
perennial favorite), “A Foggy
Day,” “Round Midnight,” and
“Gone With the Wind.”
Jammy Smith and his trio put
the top on the barrel, so to
speak. Featuring Jimmy Warren
on guitar and Don Bailey on
drums, he was at his soulful
best. As for myself, this was the
third time I had seen him and I
can safely say, he was never in
better form. The trio played for
a solid hour, usually alternating
between groovy ballads and up
tempo numbers. The ballads dis
played Jimmy’s warmth and deep
feeling; and the others conveyed
no less, and maybe even more,
for the audience seemed com
pletely absorbed and entranced
with his music. No one could sit
still — but then, he almost com
pels you to respond.
The World’s Number One Jazz
Organist proved how he earned
his title. With bds original tech
nique and his fascinating ability
to improvise, he mesmerized his
listeners.
And if you think he really
didn’t put himself into it, you
should have seen him after the
set His words: “I’m tired; that’s
the longest hour I’ve ever play
ed” — and I might add — one of
his best. Do yourself a favor.
Listen to his latest Verve release,
Hobo Flats, and see for your
self.
The week of April 16th
through the 20th found the com
munity flavored with a touch
of professionalism in the Clark
College Players production of
Arthur Miller’s “Death of a Sales
man”. Fredrick O’Neill, a pro
fessional actor who has appeared
in such productions as “Take
A Giant Step,” “Anna Lucasta,”
and is now seen as Officer Wal
lace on the television series,
“Car 54, Where Are You?” play
ed the part of Willy Loman the
self-degerating hero of the play.
Joanne Merry
Poet's Corner
YOU CAN
You can erase out lines
You can wipe away tears,
You can outlive lies
You can worry away fears.
You can remember times
When minutes were years,
You can forget the Spring
Just as it appears.
But . . .
Love is something that lasts
for years.
Patrice
AFTER THE RAIN
To sit and watch the sun rise
In the morning after the rain,
One feels the love of nature race
Through each and every vein.
Why must we often forget
That the world is a beautiful place,
Hearts of laughter, hearts of love,
Are we machines in an endless race?
No, my friend, we all must learn,
That the rain, too, has its place,
It washes earth of all her sin,
It helps cultivate God’s grace.
“Death of a Salesman’’ is what
one might call an expressionis-
tic drama. This is merely saying
that Miller is trying to give con
crete meaning to abstract ideas.
Willy Lowman, struggling against
naturalistic forces, is aided by his
own flaws, which eventually
cause his downfall.
Is Willy Loman a tragic figure,
or rather, is he a universal fi
gure? This question has been
discussed and debated ‘ numerous
times. However, what we saw
of Willy Loman as portrayed by
Mr. O’Neill was this: In walks
a rather robust built man who
appears to be carrying the bur-
SOMETHING MUST BE WRONG
This is the time of the year
When my love should be here;
He told me so during our parting,
When our love was just starting.
I expected him to return in January.
And he did not appear in February.
I know my friends mock me,
When I say my love I’ll see.
But, tonight I’ll go and look
Which way they say he took:
Was it east, or was it west?
Until I find him I’ll not rest.
I’ve walked all day and night,
And still he is not in sight;
I’ve walked in the valley and on the hill,
Where life seems so quiet and still;
I’ve talked to birds who do not understand,
But only stare at me while I stand.
Oh, you bright, white foam,
Which way does he roam;
Oh, you swift, strong wave,
I have become love’s slave;
Oh, you deep, blue sea,
Which way shall I flee?
; How I weep my love-stricken heart dry;
I can neither eat nor sleep; I try:
And now, shall I give up my hopes,
And walk back, up and down the slopes ?
I have waited too long,
Something must be wrong! .
Here I am in America
A new country, where live
My new friends
Now very dear to me;
Here in this country are
New things, new ways and
Thoughts, big houses, big
Like the men who made them;
Here is the bread well made
The water clean and the
Meat red;
Here I can work and live
Yet here I can live but not be
happy.
Something there is -—
That makes me long for
My old country
That makes me want
To see again the little street,
The evergreen vegetation on the
way
To the water, the brown bread,
Red fruit -— my dear Mather.
Yes, there is my old country
Is where my heart Is.
Jennifer Adhiambo
den of the world on his shoul
ders. We expect a rather tired,
worn and tom voice-like qua
lity giving off airs' of perplexity
and confusion.' Yet, much to the
surprise of the audience, we hear
a loud, bombastic voice that can
no where be mistaken as stage
projection.
It is just “too much” voice for
Willy Loman. However, this is
only the beginning. As the play
continues and certain tender
moments occur we still get this
same “loud” voice quality. We
are searching for the man who is
losing control over his senses;
the man whose mind constantly
slips back and forth into the
past and the present.
Yet, this man never really
comes to us. As a result, when
he finally commits suicide, the
reasons why are not quite ac
ceptable to the audience. In other
words we do not believe him.
We cannot go along with him.
However, the play was held
together by the very capable
Mrs. Georgia Alien, as Linda,
the wife of Willy. In the second
act, during the scene wherein
she berates her sons, one could
really feel that the very “soul”
of this woman: was being eaten
Jennifer Adhiambo (Ragwar)
(Ragwar)
(Corit’d. on Page 10)
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