Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Great Musicians by Robert Ziegler Bob Dylan. Legendary singer-songwriter who revolutionized folk music in the 1960's with albums such as The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde on Blonde and songs such as "The Times They Are a-Changin'," "Like a Rolling Stone," and "Positively 4th Street." Before Fame. Born Robert Zimmerman, he changed his name to Dylan after the poet Dylan Thomas. He was born into a Jewish family, but later converted to Christianity. While studying at the University of Minnesota, he became more enthused with folk music than rock and roll. Trivia. His 1975 protest song "Hurricane," telling the story of the wrongfully imprisoned African-American boxer Rubin "Hurricane" Carter, is one of the most well known examples of activism through music. He won a Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016. Family Life. His real name is Robert Allen Zimmerman. He married Sara Dylan on November 22, 1965; after their divorce on June 29, 1977, he married Carolyn Dennis on June 4, 1986. He has three daughters and three sons. One of his sons, Jakob, also became a singer and guitar player. Associated With. He sang a duet with the great Johnny Cash titled "Girl From the North Country" in 1969. What I'm thinking about . conducting Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is hot and busy in this corner of Australia called Adelaide. The festival atmosphere is town is buoying us all up through long days and late nights, here in the 30+ degrees heat – for me a welcome change from a miserable March in the UK. I was last here in 2000, to conduct a pair of concerts for the then artistic director (and all round Australian arts heroine) Robyn Archer. Then, it was a series on the east German composer and Brecht collaborator Hanns Eisler, performed with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra and Adelaide Chamber Singers. These two ensembles are back again this year, to perform in a special project that originated at London's South Bank: 2001 A Space Odyssey – Live. Live film and music performances have become increasingly popular since Adelaide festival director David Sefton and I first collaborated in the 1990s, on a new score for Hitchcock's early silent hit The Lodger by composer Joby Talbot. The score's debut at the Edinburgh Film Festival back in the 1990s (this was pre-digital) was a rocky one: the old acetate catching fire in the projection room mid-performance, with festival president Sean Connery sitting in the house. We re-grouped, fixed the film – and finished triumphantly to the sound of a resonant Scottish "Brahhvoooh!" from 007 in the stalls. Stanley Kubrick's 2001 is another unique event: a spacey, psychedelic essay on the rise of artificial intelligence, and the strange encounters between space explorers and ancient black monoliths – objects that appear to embody some strange universal intelligence that has affected human evolution. Kubrick wrote the script with Arthur C Clarke, using then ground-breaking special effects and cinematography: the film still looks awesome, in the best sense of that overused word. Alex North, one of the great film composers, was originally commissioned to write the score – but Kubrick discarded it. I don't know of many successful film composers who have been spared this experience in the course of their careers – but this was apparently done quite brutally late, during the post-production period. One of the hazardous facts of life for a film composer is that the music is usually the final element to be realised. I recently worked on Howard Shore's score for The Hobbit, and was conducting at Abbey Road studios just a few weeks before the film's release. The majority of 2001 is, in fact, silent, so the lack of a score left a big part of the film unfinished. When Kubrick realised that the North score (which is available in an excellent recording conducted by fellow maestro Jerry Goldsmith) was not going to work, he turned to music of a completely different and surprising kind. Gyorgy Ligeti's eerie, powerful works are milestones of 20th century music. Kubrick strategically used two works – the massive orchestral score Atmospheres, and the Kyrie from his Requiem – as the sound of the unfathomable intelligence embodied in those enigmatic monoliths. A third work, Lux Aeterna, characterises the cold, silent stillness of infinite outer space. Kubrick's use of Johann Strauss' waltz The Beautiful Blue Danube was a stroke of absolute genius – its giddy, spinning weightlessness perfectly underscoring the effortless orbit of the spaceships around the whirling space stations as they glide between planets. Finally, and most famously, Kubrick used what was then a lesser known fanfare that opens Richard Strauss's tone poem Also Sprach Zarathustra, heralding Man's Nietzschean moment of self-realisation. Kubrick used Herbert von Karajan's recordings for the film; after a meeting with the director, the eminent conductor stated that Kubrick was "one of the only true geniuses I have ever met". Bringing this score to life has been a complete delight for me: it's one of the few films that really justifies the reviving of the score in a live context. It's been a big undertaking and I've now watched the film many dozens of times (I'm still not tired of it). I find myself mentally cueing the film, as I would an opera singer, for various cuts and "hit points". I guess when the film starts reacting back, it will be time to go home. Orchestras are broadening their scope for the better. T he public sponsorship and private patronage that has sustained symphony orchestras, the free school music lessons that give students their first embrace with an instrument, and the general agreement that aspiring to play “classical” music is a valuable part of our society are under threat. But orchestras are responding to this challenge in new and surprising ways, with exhilarating results. I recently spent a glorious week in China conducting the soundtrack to Stanley Kubrick’s classic sci-fi film, 2001: A Space Odyssey, performed live with the film by the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra. It’s a bold project created at London’s Southbank Centre in collaboration with the British Film Institute. And this month, I’ll lead the BBC Concert Orchestra at London’s Royal Festival Hall in the first live presentation of the great Jerry Goldsmith’s score for the 1968 Planet of the Apes, with Charlton Heston battling his simian captors. This kind of collaboration is becoming more common in orchestras’ calendars as they struggle to fill concert halls. Increasingly, orchestras are looking for new ways to engage audiences, by performing great music that plays a familiar part in people’s lives. It’s proving to be a huge success. Everywhere, orchestras are broadening their scope: live relays to cinemas, crashing pop festivals such as Latitude, and performing alongside video artists and circus performers. In a very bold move, Manchester’s Hallé Orchestra invited audiences to come along and pay what they thought the concert was worth on their way out. The symphony orchestra is an august and venerable guardian of the greatest classical music of the past three centuries. And if that seems a bit stuffy, just think of it as the ultimate tribute band. We recreate Bach’s and Mozart’s definitive sound, even using replicas of 18th and 19th century instruments. We devote whole concert seasons to the music of Beethoven. There’s even an entire festival and auditorium devoted to Wagner’s week-long cycle of operas at the Bayreuther Festspiele. Of course, there’s also our own mammoth classical Glastonbury at the BBC Proms. However, I’ll bet that today more people hear orchestral music in films than anywhere else. I recently toured the UK with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (RPO) with music by film composer John Williams. After a recent concert in Northampton I was met by a biker at the stage door who said he had heard the RPO before (“somebody’s piano concerto … don’t ask me who”) and really wanted to come back to hear this amazing orchestra in something he was familiar with. The music from Star Wars was just the ticket and he and his mates roared off very happily into the night. In Europe, orchestras were formerly part of the fabric of society; they were an essential part of education and entertainment. I remember guest conducting early evening (6.30pm!) concerts in Poland and East Germany in the 1980s, before the wall came down, and being met with an audience of grannies, hipsters, parents and their toddlers. Whether they went home afterwards, out to dinner, or off clubbing, they all began their weekend together in the concert hall. In the US, the history is different. Before the pop music industry was established, “classical” music had the hits worth recording. Intimidated in the face of European high culture, American audiences were guided by early record labels such as RCA’s His Master’s Voice (HMV), which democratised the classics through popular recordings and music appreciation classes. Classical music stars were lionised. Enrico Caruso was the first to sell 1m copies of a record (1902); Arturo Toscanini was thrice on the cover of Time Magazine (1926, 1934 and 1948); and Leopold Stokowski and Arthur Rubinstein appeared in Hollywood films. A similar levelling is happening through the digital revolution, which has made all music immediately accessible, transforming the way orchestras reach their audience. Twitter and Facebook are essential marketing tools and increase the dialogue artists have with their audiences. My eyes were really opened to this when in July I conducted the Royal Philharmonic in the premiere of Pete Townshend’s Classic Quadrophenia at the Royal Albert Hall, with a cast including Alfie Boe, Billy Idol, Phil Daniels and Townshend himself. The euphoria the audience felt continued on social media for weeks afterwards. Why do rock stars such as Townshend, the Police’s Stewart Copeland or Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood want to use orchestras? Because it gives them a bigger canvas, more colours and new and compelling ways to reach us with their music. As Erich Wolfgang Korngold, one of the first (and some say still the greatest) film composers, said: “Music is music whether it is for the stage, rostrum or cinema … a direct avenue to the ears and hearts of the great public.” Robert Ziegler conducts the BBC Concert Orchestra for Planet of the Apes at the Royal Festival Hall in London on 28 August. Join our community of arts, culture and creative professionals by signing up free to the Guardian Culture Pros Network . Jerry Goldsmith 1/2. Matthew Sweet is joined by conductor Robert Ziegler to celebrate the film music of Jerry Goldsmith. The Classic Score of the Week is Goldsmith's music for the 1976 film The Omen. Matthew Sweet is joined by conductor Robert Ziegler in the first of two programmes reflecting on the scores of one of the great figures of film music - Jerry Goldsmith. The Classic Score of the Week is Goldsmith's score for the 1976 film "The Omen", and there's also music from Goldsmith's scores to "Lonely are the brave", "Patton", "Chinatown", "Freud", "Planet of the Apes" and "Poltergeist". Great Musicians by Robert Ziegler. The American mezzo-soprano, Delores Ziegler, studied at the University of Tennessee. After beginning her career with concert engagements, Delores Ziegler made her operatic stage debut in Knoxville in 1978 as Verdi�s Flora. In 1978-1979 she was a member of the Santa Fe Opera apprenticeship program. In 1978 she appeared as Verdi�s Maddalena in St. Louis. She made her European operatic debut in Bonn in 1981 as Dorabella. In 1982 she sang for the first time at the Cologne Opera. In 1984 she appeared as Dorabella at her Glyndebourne debut and as Bellini�s Romeo at her La Scala debut in Milan. With a repertoire that extends from bel canto to verismo, Delores Ziegler has appeared in the world�s greatest opera houses. With numerous companies including the Metropolitan Opera, Lyric Opera of Chicago, San Francisco Opera, Vienna Staatsoper, Teatro La Scala, Dresden and Cologne Opera, and the Bolshoi Opera, she has sung leading roles in Ariadne auf Naxos; Idomeneo; Così fan tutte; Le nozze di Figaro; Der Rosenkavalier; I Capuleti e i Montecchi; Orfeo; Faust; La clemenza di Tito; La damnation de Faust; and Falstaff. Her festival credits include the Salzburg Festival, the Glyndebourne Festival, Aix-en-Provence, Athens Festival, and the Florence May Festival.