Fredric Kurzweil 1912-70

Fredric Kurzweil -- conductor, composer, author, educator, humanitarian, first chairman of the Department of Music at Queensborough Community College of The City University of New York; former Dean of the New York College of Music; former executive director of the Opera Workshop at Chatham College, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania; distinguished faculty member of Fordham University, New York University, and Queens College; conductor for the Metropolitan Bell Symphony Orchestra, the New York City Center Opera and the St. Louis Grand Opera; music director and conductor for The After Dinner Opera Company and the Mobile (Alabama) Opera with which he was affiliated for ten years and where he was honored with the presentation of the key to the city. Dr. Kurzweil's performances as piano virtuoso were as important as his appearances as conductor, as his recordings testify. His whole life was musical -- everything he did, everywhere he went, he made music and enriched lives. He left a legacy of music -- a beautiful family of artists and musicians, the recordings of his performances, songs and choral and instrumental compositions of unusual insight and relevance. The Fredric Kurzweil Concert Hall is located at Queensborough Community College in Bayside, New York. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tracks 2, 3 and 4 are Bach's Fifth Brandenburg Concerto. My father plays it on the piano (which didn't exist when Bach composed this) while conducting the orchestra. He maintained that Bach would have used a piano if it existed. Everyone else plays the Brandenburg concertos on a harpsichord because that is what Bach composed it for. But the melody line is completely lost on a Harpsichord. Please send any comments or questions regarding my Dad's CD to me at enidks1@cs.com. Thanks, Enid Kurzweil ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Poem about Fredric Kurzweil By Aurelia Scott The green hill, the white hill Has waves of students Pouring over it in bright colors; Some find their way to A kind man with love in his face Who reaches out his hand To give them music. They take what he gives, and through him They sense in the beat of the time The eternal behind the time. Sometimes on a formal occasion Between the speeches and the ceremonies Comes a pause and he plays, And the lived experience of a great soul Screams out through his fingers. Sometimes at a rollicking party His songs bring a lift and a cheer As he waves around humor with light. Or he sits alone and composes Music that moves and speaks; Tentative, his hand strays over The keys, then strikes with firmness, As his fingers obey what the heart tells. (Oh heart, loving heart that went out To all who had need of you -- In us who loved and listened there lives In the beat of the times you blessed, The eternal behind the time.) The dissonances, the gloom Of a strife-torn world were brightened When he caught them and pounded them Out till they shone like a band Of silver horns in the sun. The hill remembers the music; The hill will never forget. The tenderness of the man Is what we remember, the smile, And the heart that beat for us all.