O LOVELY PEACE by GEORGE FRIEDRICH HANDEL. Story by Felicity Sandral
As a teenager, I harboured completely delusional fantasies about becoming a classical musician. I mean. Completely. Delusional
As a teenager, I harboured completely delusional fantasies about becoming a classical musician. I mean. Completely. Delusional
In the middle of the noughties, the songwriter moved. The continent - Europe. He brought his sheet music, but abandoned his creative desires.
One of the romantic things Heaven and Driver did when they weren't Frenching in the driveway was make mixtapes for each other. I helped. One summer afternoon, Driver and I made a tape for Heaven.
Our first show for 2021 is on Saturday evening 8 May at The Capital Theatre, Bendigo, in central Victoria. Hope to see you there, folks.
The careers of many musicians featured in our OzMusic stories would have been shaped in one way or another by Michael Gudinski.
The nurse had downloaded the lyrics to Downtown, probably in exasperation at our feeble yet frequent attempts. Finally, we sang the song in its entirety.
We are a nation of Indigenous peoples and immigrants, a new world with an ancient past, a land of many melodies
Now here I am, in a country town, in a pub of good spirit, in a song without end, in the company of people content to play their role, with the ghost of Walt Whitman hovering at my side.
Like a million fools before me, and a million more to come as sure as night follows day, I leave my virgin emotions unspoken, expecting osmosis to be a go-between.
Intention often gets forgotten when it comes to art and all that remains are interpretations. How others remember our insides in music or words or pictures is what survives time.