The Tempest

This is another film of late 2010 that I really want to see.

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Music Producer

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T Bone Burnett’s 40 years of experience in music and entertainment have earned him an unparalleled reputation as a first-rate innovative artist, songwriter, producer, performer, concert producer, record company owner and artist advocate. Burnett’s highly sought-after involvement in music, film, television and stage projects is marked by his uncanny ability to successfully combine his unique artistic sensibilities with massive commercial appeal. Just as importantly, T Bone Burnett is a champion for artistic freedom and independence, and a driving force in the elevation of our popular culture.

The Speaking Clock Revue came to New York City’s Beacon Theatre last October, playing to a sold-out crowd who came to see and hear solo performances and collaborations from Elton John & Leon Russell, Elvis Costello, John Mellencamp, Gregg Allman, Ralph Stanley, Jim James of My Morning Jacket, Jeff Bridges and newcomers Punch Brothers, Karen Elson and The Secret Sisters.

As the New York Times reported, “to start the show Mr. Burnett appeared in his preacher’s coat and reeled off dozens of digital-era buzzwords, only to dismiss them: “Never mind about all that, here’s some music….

“Mr. Burnett gets songwriters to think about mortality, spirituality, history, heritage and ends of eras, and he places their voices amid vintage sounds that are tweaked to be vivid rather than strictly authentic.  He’s an Americana auteur, finding dark, strange, thoughtful and rocking songs from across decades and genres…It was a concert of murder ballads and pleas for redemption, tall tales and tales of sorrow….Youthful verve …was juxtaposed with the burdens and lessons of age.”

R.I.P., Mr. Price

I learned yesterday of the death of southern writer Reynolds Price. I always admired his indefatigable and prolific output as a novelist, despite spending years in a wheelchair due to a rare cancer of the spine. He will be missed, but his memorable scenes and characters of the deep South will live on…

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