"A gentleman would offer his seat." Joe Dator Original art The New Yorker, September 17, 2018, p. 56
Note the quality of the taut, varied, and mostly shaded vertical lines which describe the reflective piano lid versus the looser lines indicating the scattered reflections on the stage.
June 29, 2025 Update: The cartoon was not sold in 2022 after all. It was subsequently listed at Curated Cartoons and is now listed on a new website, Big Cartel.
A copy of Jean-Jacques Sempé'sSauve Qui Peut [Every Man for Himself] (1964) is inscribed to pianist John Philips. It has an original 1966 drawing of a harp duet of sorts. The book was sold on eBay for $104.50 on September 25, 2007 by Dunaway Books of St. Louis.
Jean-Jacques Sempé,Sauve Qui Peut,Denoël, 1964
Signed "Pour John Philips, Sempé, 1966" with a drawing of a woman and man playing either side of a harp in concert while busts of the great composers are mounted high above them.
Note: Really, who's better than Sempé? Collectors with original works by Jean-Jacques Sempé who want to see them on a stranger's blog should send scans or photos. It's every man for himself.
I'd also love to hear from anyone with knowledge of the pianist John Philips, his friendship with Sempé, and his recordings.
Sauve Qui Peut is an idiomatic expression that roughly translates as Rush to Escape. I chose to translate it as Every Man for Himself, which it has come to mean, but it also has the sense of Get Out While You Can. Quick Links to Attempted Bloggery's Archives Jean-Jacques Sempé Signed Books with Original Drawings Harp
A copy of Jean-Jacques Sempé'sTout se complique [Everything is Complicated] is inscribed by the artist to pianist John Philips. It has an original drawing of a pianist playing, if not the Moonlight Sonata, then perhaps a sonata in the moonlight. It was sold on eBay by Dunaway Books of St. Louis in September of 2007 for $135.50.
Jean-Jacques Sempé Tout se complique, Denoël, 1962, 1964
Inscribed "Pour John Philips, Sempé" with a drawing of a pianist playing in the moonlight
Note: Cartoons books with original drawings by Jean-Jacques Sempé (and others) are a specialty of the house here at Attempted Bloggery. Please send scans or photos of your own examples of the house special and we'll see what we can put on the menu.
Information about the pianist John Philips, likely a longtime friend of Sempé, would be welcome as well. Did he have a prosperous concert career? Did he record more than the Milhaud piano and ondes Martenot sonata?
La Grande Panique [The Great Panic] is a 1966 cartoon collection by Jean-Jacques Sempé. A copy inscribed to pianist John Philips includes a drawing of a pianist and a harpist preparing for a performance by—what else?—tying back their hair. The unique book was sold on eBay by Dunaway Books in St. Louis for $129.26 in November of 2007.
Jean-Jacques Sempé,La Grande Panique, Denoël, 1966
Inscribed "For John Philips, Sempé" with a drawing of a pianist and harpist tying back their hair on a concert stage
Note: Cartoons books with original drawings by Jean-Jacques Sempé (and others) are a specialty of the house here at Attempted Bloggery. Please send scans or photos of your own examples of the house special and I'll see what we can put on the menu.
Pianist John Philips, as we have seen, recorded at least one piece by Darius Milhaud in France. His library contained Sempé first editions personalized by the artist over at least two decades. So how did his book collection get to a bookseller in St. Louis? Anyone?
Jean-Jacques Sempé'sVaguement Compétitif [Vaguely Competitive] was published by Denoël in 1985. In the year of publication, Sempé inscribed a copy to musician John Philips with a drawing of a concert pianist approaching his instrument. The book was sold by Dunaway Books of St. Louis, MO on September 25, 2007 for $90 on eBay.
Inscribed "Pour John Philips, J. J. Sempé 1985" with a drawing of a man walking to a piano Jean-Jacques Sempé Vaguement Compétitif,Denoël, 1985
Book recipient John Philips performed in the suite by Darius Milhaud on a 1962 recording.
Messiaen: Fete des Belles Eaux Milhaud: Suite pour Piano et ondes Martenot J. Charpentier Lalita (pour Martenot et percussion) Jeanne Loriod, ondes Martenot and musical direction John Philips, piano Didier Duclos, percussion France, 1962
Inscribed "Pour John Philips, J. J. Sempé 1985" with a drawing of a musician walking to a concert piano Jean-Jacques Sempé Vaguement Compétitif,Denoël, 1985
Note: I'm the first to admit that original works by Jean-Jacques Sempé don't appear enough on this blog, so who has something good to share here?
Last night Tim Keyes conducted the world premiere of his oratorio The Well, based on the account of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well from the Gospel of John. The music was tuneful and accessible, worthy of widespread performance.
Constantin Alajálov'sNew Yorker cover for the week of March 21, 1936 is surely a bit of an oddity. The piano recital, on the surface, is unlike any we have seen. The performer is bent over the piano with great intensity and concentration, and seemingly has been for some time in this all-Bach program. The audience is divided into three camps. The majority have already left even as the performance continues, an almost impossibly rude outcome. Yet a small core of loyalists has migrated right up to the stage, almost equally unbelievable given the formality of the setting. Their facial expressions differ, but they seem to be either giving the performance their rapt attention or they are entirely lost in the music. A third contingent of audience members are on their way out, yet they linger, focussed not on the exits as we might expect but on the concert even though it has gone on for too long. What a wonderful piece this is! What a metaphor for our differing responses to the fine arts! The original artwork is available from Grapefruit Moon Gallery for $8,500. The price is fairly steep, but this is really a one-of-a-kind piece.
Constantin Alajálov, Original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov, Detail of original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov, Detail of original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov's signature
Constantin Alajálov, Framed original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov, Detail of framed original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
[End of Grapefruit Moon Gallery Listing]
Constantin Alajálov,The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Glenn Gould: Bach's Goldberg Variations 1981 Studio Video
April 19, 2014 Update: This illustration was sold by Kodner Galleries of Dania Beach, Florida on December 5, 2012 for $1,600. Even with the costs of shipping and reframing, the price has more than quadrupled.
Constantin Alajálov, Original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov, Framed original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
Constantin Alajálov's signature
Constantin Alajálov, Detail of original cover art, The New Yorker, March 21, 1936
November 25, 2018 Update: The Grapefruit Moon Gallery lists this artwork as sold. Note: See this blog's other posts about Constantin Alajálovhere. Further examples of original New Yorker cover art may be seen here.
I got to see "Manilow on Broadway" at the St. James Theatre on Saturday night. For me, this merely involved a short drive to the theater district, but the audience was not simply the usual assortment of tourists in town looking to catch a good play.The theatergoers seemed to be a highly self-selected group of devotees of Barry Manilow, folks who still felt passionately about him and the incredible string of hits he produced in the 1970's and early '80's. Entering the theater was, to an extent, like entering a fan community. People were all uncommonly friendly (yes, even for New York!) and shared stories about how far they had traveled to be there. It became clear that a great many audience members had come a considerable distance solely to see the show. For these fans, this concert, was not just another show in town. It was a destination. Some had driven in from Boston and beyond. That's devotion!
I like it when people are passionate about music. This audience was there to see Barry Manilow and to have a great time. And they did. The singer was in excellent form for the 90 minute show (no intermission), and the audience loved every number. Some had already seen the show. Almost all the songs were familiar '70's or '80's hits, and just about every audience member was old enough to have heard them all when they were brand new.
Manilow was quite personable, and I don't think this is just an act. He reminisced about his boyhood in Brooklyn. He had some reasonable comments about songwriting. I found him to be pretty genuine. He's 69 years old now, but he sounds good, looks good, and moves darn well. Days after the show, I'm still feeling good.
"Manilow on Broadway" is a limited engagement through March 2, 2013.
"Manilow on Broadway" Playbill
Barry Manilow, February 1, 2013
Photo by Marc Hoffman
Barry Manilow at the Keyboard, February 2, 2013
Barry Manilow, February 2, 2013
Barry Manilow, February 2, 2013
The audience was energized on all three levels of the theater. The glow wands were complimentary. February 2, 2013
