Відео

honestly mr dubyk is an amazing teacher. its so odd having a proper musician as my career and life management teacher but its so cool as well

first

Nice introduction and beautiful performance ❤.

That was a fascinating insight into the role of the organist and the complexities of playing this magnificent and versatile instrument. Thank you very much.

Wow!

My Mom used to take me to Tredwells when she shopped for sheet music. It was her favourite store!

=

Why is this girl in such a hurry - like she can't get the words out quick enough?

I’ve been a longtime fan of Okulitch, although he doesn’t often appear in New York. Interesting discussion about Giovanni. I’ve seen the opera MANY times, and always thought of him as a charming seducer. But now I kinda think of him as Trump, taking whatever he wants, not caring about the consequences, never facing justice. Well, Giovanni ultimately gets his reward; we’ll have to wait and see about Trump.

Well done Sam !

Assilinn and Max blow me away thank you for sharing

I slept at the Fort Garry and experienced one of the worst night terrors I’ve ever had.

🥇Chooi Brothers! 🔥😍❤️❤️❤️

Top organist !

Wow 🤩 6 years ago! Thanks 🙏

Many thanks, Sebastian, for a really fascinating and informative interview. I’m immensely happy to see so many younger people learning to play the organ and achieving great musical and technical ability. It has been an immense joy and privilege to be able to listen to you play the Queen of Instruments with such inspired musicality and outstanding technicalability. You have a gift which gives happiness to all who listen. From being a chorister and organist at Bach’s church in Leipzig to an organist appreciated worldwide for playing Bach I think you can be assured of his approval.

What a beautiful young man with a a natural gift to play the organ.. Simply delightful! A moment in time we must cherish and pray that God is behind this whole thing.

Liona always looks so pretty.

This is so interesting.

Great Libyans

In addition he is supremely good looking!

what a goat

So adorable

I used to play bass for Blues bands in Toronto. I got to play with Hock Walsh when Terry Wilkins wasn't available. I visited a friend who had moved to Winnipeg in the seventies, Sidney McMillan, and she took me to see Houndog. I loved them. Bought their record "Every Dog Has Its Day". Converted it to CD recently and still listen to it. A great band. Still listen to it. Don't listen to the Beatles anymore. Still love Hendrix. There's something about music that is based on Blues.

HA! I also practise in the middle of the night. I can relate to what he said.

Professor Sandred is AWESOME

Brief Bio: I’m Al Fogel born in 1945 and at an early age began writing poems. In 1962 I was introduced to a neighbor who just returned from Avatar Meher Baba’s “ East west” gathering and handed me a book titled “The Everything and the Nothing” that included brief but powerful passages by Meher Baba that touched me deeply and i became a “ Baba Lover” In 2010 while on Jane Reichhold’s AHA website workshopping poems I befriended a Chinese man who helped me perfect my Senryu and Haibun. I am now considered one of the nations leading authorities on Tanka , Senryu, and Haibun. Here are some examples of each of my specialties. They are all from the contemporary American format. Senryu ( senryu is the humorous human side of haiku. Usually 3 lines but can be 2 or 1 line so long as it is 17 syllables or less). It is considered the humorous human side of haiku. For example, the following two of mine are horrific and heartbreaking dealing with the Holocaust): cattle cars - between the slats human eyes ~ Stutthof - the stench of burnt smoke from the chimneys (And here are some more examples): thrift store purchase inside the leather jacket a tarnished half-heart ~ dentist chair the hygienist removes my Bluetooth ~ Internet argument all his words in CAPS hers in EMOTICONS ~ after the divorce he spends more time at the dollar store ~ damsel in distress Clarke Kent still searching for a phone booth ~ cauliflower ears once a contender now boxing vegetables ~ under the influence - moonshine ~ Audubon sale all variety of seeds. . . early birds welcome ~ Buddhist fortune cookie the unfolded paper reads “ better luck next birth!” ~ sudden downpour. . . adults run for shelter ~ sidewalk cafe birds and people tweeting ~ Crowded crosswalk the “seeing eye” dog leads the way ~ deserted train depot a long line of tracks leading nowhere ~~ return to my youth lit by the tracks of Lionel trains. ~ Tanka: (Tanka is comprised of 5 lines of 31 syllables or less. Usually there are far less syllables) Here are 3 examples: returning home from a Jackson pollock exhibition I smear my face with paint and morph into art ~ crowded bus a young lady offers me her seat it seems like only yesterday I was offering mine ~ deserted train depot a conductor shouting “ All Aboard!” now a long line of tracks leading nowhere ~ Haibun: ( the haibun consists of a prose section with one or more haiku that must in some way relate to the prose. All Haibun have titles Here are some examples: The Mathematics of Retribution “Karma is unfathomable,” I inform her It’s late and our conversation turns heavy “ Seems simple to me, “my girlfriend responds. “If I murder you, then it’s reasonable that I will be murdered in this or another life to balance the ledger.” “ Not necessarily so” I’m quick to rejoin. “What if you murdered me in this life because I murdered you in a prior life karmic debts and dues are now equalized.” “But what if I get caught and I go to jail for life. Where’s the equal payback in that?” “As I said, karma is unfathomable.” We continue discussing reincarnation and then add the possibilities of “group karma” to the mix Finally, at about midnight, we fall asleep Stutthof - the stench of burnt hair from the chimneys ~~ Mama There were days when I pretended to be too sick to go to school - - just for mamas loving embrace -her arms the heat of home Even with the onset of dementia, her cheerfulness was so contagious it was a joy being around her despite the illness. She made everyone laugh with her spontaneous unpredictable behavior. nursing home bumper wheelchair her favorite pastime Once a week I would whisk her away from the assisted-living facility and we would spend several hours together -grabbing a meal or frequenting some of her favorite second-hand stores where she loved to shop and donate clothes. When we drove to her favorite thrift in November, her dementia worsened. thrift store the dress mama donated she wants to buy On a cold December morn mama passed. The funeral was simple. There was a light drizzle as the family gathered at the gravesite. One by one, with eyes full of rain, we said our last goodbyes. autumn twilight - oh mama tuck me under hug me one more time ~ ‘Round Midnight It was a huge ballroom on the top floor of a building on Broadway --an important midtown crossroads in the heart of the Great White Way. My uncle still talks with reverence about how -in his heyday -he would travel by rail to the corner of Lenox and walk inside to the beat of jungle music. Who knew what to expect? One night you might be listening with rapt attention to Theloneous Monk and Dizzy Gillespie the godfathers of bebop in their signature beret caps, or the Nicholas Brothers flashing their wild acrobatic spins and splits, or enchanted by the sweet taste of Brown Sugar -with Bojangles out front. And when the Bird was in flight, even the moon was not high enough. But in 1940 the ballroom closed its doors to make way for a commercial housing development and another kind of night. Harlem The A-train replaced by the Bullet ~ Atlantic City New Jersey I had just graduated from high school I remember stopping for saltwater taffy -as evening journeyed slowly into night. Nearing curfew, we sat on a protruded sandy enclave--holding hands, looking out at the ocean, not saying much. In the distance the lights from an ocean liner flickered as the night kept coming on in... first “french kiss” under the boardwalk “over the moon!” ~~ All love, Al

I hope you don’t mind me sharing the following poem, one of my all time favorite meta poetic poems by a poet named “Howard Dull” titled “Suibhne Gheilt” that I recently chanced upon. When I read it, I became speechless. And most of my poetry friends consider this as one of their all time favorites. It was published in a 1970s anthology titled “ Open Poetry” and proves that once Poetry hits you in your heart, you could be the worst nefarious scoundrel with kings at your bidding and Empires at your command but you will be transformed and never again return to your former Self. ~~ Suibhne Gheilt 1 He has haunted me now for over a year that madman Suibhne Gheilt who in the middle of a battle looked up and saw something that made him leap up and fly over swords and trees - a poet gifted above all others - 11 How could a proud loud mouth who yelled KILL KILL KILL as he plowed done the enemy - heads rolling off of his sword - be so lifted up ( or fly up as those below saw it - wings beating) be so suddenly gifted with poetry and nest so high in Ireland’s tall trees? Is there a point where all paths cross? And why am I so drawn to him that all my questions seem shot in his direction? “And they ran into the woods and threw their lances and shot their arrows up through the branches” What parallels could I ever hope to find - my refusal to fight ( weaseling out on psychiatric grounds)? my leaving my country behind? my poetry? “and my wife wept on the path below. . . Oh memory is sweet but sweeter is the sorrel in the pool in the path below” I fly down every night to eat 111 Sweeney like the rest of us would have been better off if he had never anything to do with women. But the point of it lies hidden in a pool of milk in a pile of shit for you to see when a milkmaid smiles Sweeney like the rest of us flies down and when she pours the milk into the hole her heel made in the cowdung Sweeney like the rest of us kneels down and drinks and dies on the horn the cowherd hid in it. So before you have anything to do with women remember Sweeney the bird of Ireland lying on his back in the middle of that path in the moonlight. 1V And on my way home this morning ( my wife waiting) my shadow racing up the path ahead of me I saw something ( a black stone?) thrown at the back of its head ducked and spun around so fast I almost fell down - it was a bird flying up into a tree V No good could come out of this war out of what burns in the heart of our highly disciplined John Q. Killer as a whole village bursts into one flame - the villagers streaming like tears towards the forest cover his helicopter’s blades blow the leaves off and and the flame towards. . . as we sit in front of our bubbles watching our president ( whose bubbletalk no one can escape and he is a little bit mad -calling the reporters in for an interview while he’s sitting on the bubble having a bubble movement) and first lady climb into their big bubble bed an Lucy, born of their own bubbles, crawls in between - “ Mah daddy has so many troubles turning the world into a bubble and sick of crossfire - the cries of the women and children flying over his head - he stumbled down to the riverbank and found, the wreckage twisted around the tree behind, his skull. . . Noises, there are noises, noises that can of themselves drive a man mad -NOISES! But last night the Stockhausen penetrated from the four sides of the auditorium, stripping each layer of feeling and thought until all that was left was something the size of a nut - so tiny, so hard, so impenetrable it was alone in the middle of an infinite space. . . -Howard Dull ~~ ps: Howard Dull was such an obscure poet that he never published a book and ( to my knowledge) never published another poem. But OMG, this was so brilliant that in my opinion it should be read and studied at the college level. All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida, Al

Enjoyed your poems. and other poems by you on various online sites. Your word choices enhanced the poems emotional impact and kept me engaged throughout. I’m a poet specializing in Japanese forms: haiku, tanka, haibun, kyoka, senryu. I hope you don’t mind me sharing a tanka and my haiku, a tribute poem to Bashō’s frog with commentary by the late AHA founder and poet Jane Reichhold who considered my Basho haiku among her top 10 haiku of all time. What an honor. Here’s the Bashō poem and commentary: Bashō’s frog four hundred years of ripples At first the idea of picking only 10 of my favorite haiku seemed a rather daunting task. How could I review all the haiku I have read in my life and decide that there were only 10 that were outstanding? Then realized I was already getting a steady stream of excellent haiku day by day through the AHA forum. The puns and write-offs based on Basho's most famous haiku are so numerous I would have said that nothing new could be said with this method, but here Al Fogel proved me wrong. Perhaps part of my delight in this haiku lies in the fact that I agree with him. Here he is saying one thing about realism-ripples are on a pond after a frog jumps in, but because it refers back to Basho and his famous haiku, he is also saying something about the haiku and authors who have followed him. We, and our work, are just ripples while Basho holds the honor of inventing the idea of the sound of a frog leaping is the sound of water As haiku spreads around the world, making ripples in more and larger ponds, its ripples are wider-including us all. But his last word reminds us all that we are ripples and our lives ephemeral. It will be the frogs that will remain. ~~ And my tanka: returning home from a Jackson Pollock exhibition I smear my face with paint and morph into art ~~ -All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida, Al

very refreshing to hear him denounce hip hop and reggae! not sure if he'd say this now though (sadly).

First encountered her guitar beauty as a student in Canada in 1980 and been fan ever since Thanks to U tube for this interview and subsequent performance

A

Jon's a great alto player!

I love this !!!

Thanks for introducing me to Gaspard de la nuit and Ravel in general, it's my new favorite piece

Fanen is a talented legend of young generations. He’s really doing something on music, he’s an accomplished musician.

Fanchen, the Rush E discussion goes deeper than anyone would ever believe. :) Great Musician w a new piece on his Channel, blowing up currently.

An incredible group of musicians whom I call friends. Bravo to all of the RCAF Band!

Sorry to hear this choir has been deteriorating since the previous conductor was leading it. Shame, this choir cannot sing anything of Bortnjanski. It is time for a new and professional conductor.

Magistral y hermosa guitarrista Armenia GOHAR VARDANYAN.

You know, Jazz on the Rocks was the best thing on the radio every night. 107.1 will never be the same.

👍👏👍👏

I use to hang at this bar called ' THE WINDSOR HOTEL" and from time to time Brent would drop in and jam, I love his style and sound. It's so nice to hear him live...good job Brent, I have been a fan of yours and will continue to the day Blues dies!....NOT!

This boy is not only an amazingly talented person but a musicologist as well. What an amazing background. I hope this boy goes far. He makes other young organists look like beginners. It is little wonder why that boy won the Longwood Competition. And congratulations for that. It was an amazing performance. No Astounding display of technical and musical abilities. I knew it - His description of the stops - had to be Casavant

This man is a legend

Nice Job! Shout out to my fellow Centurions!! Tight sound, great interpretations. FRC Stage Band guitar player here from 1981 to '83 under the direction of Orv Anderson. We won the Canadian National Stage Band (Senior Class) Festival in Toronto in 1981, for best high school jazz band in the country. Awesome to see FRC is still pumping out great talent! Jeff Healey was in high school then and was voted into the all star band that year. They had to bring in a second guitar player as he would continually solo over the band and not comp over the charts..... you can't stop incredible talent.

<3

What incredible basses. That Contra F was absurdly smooth and clean.

Loved your contribution to Messiah/Complex. Such an uplifting voice - good luck in your future!

Just listening to an old tape of St. Silver, with this talented man on the wurlitzer. What an incredible talent.