“All this sniping and yapping at music! ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ could be the soundtrack to one of the most romantic moments in your life, too, if you let it sweep you away.
It was a freezing cold night in January. Big fat snowflakes whipped through the air while the skyline surrounding Central Park stood in silent vigil as Gershwin’s music pierced that inky darkness, emanating from the speakers that ringed Wollman Rink.
My new boyfriend and I rented skates and joined the throng, at first tentatively circling, then with more vigor as the music propelled us. It felt as if we were flying — beneath the snowflakes and the stars — and look!
Over there’s Venus.
And over there, Mars.
Whenever I hear that glorious music, I’m instantly transported to that moment in time when his gloved hand held my gloved hand and the world was full of possibilities.
What I wouldn’t give for the chance to circle just once more, in the cold and the dark … enveloped by ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ …”
— Christine Lavin, in “Letters to the Editor” in response to Ethan Iverson’s “The Worst Masterpiece: ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ at 100“. A jazz musician considers the legacy and unfulfilled promise of George Gershwin’s catchy — or you could say corny — repertory staple.
