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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) ■ : : <- > ■ ..H- >c-