Words without Music

25 01 2019

Philip Glass’ most recent autobiography, Words without Music, was a bit of a disappointment to me, and a bittersweet read because I realized that, in a sense, I have sort of moved on from his music. Longtime readers might remember that Glass was one of my first big musical obsessions as a teenager. I even wrote a review of Music in Twelve Parts for my high school newspaper of all places. Glass got me through some pretty rough patches. I remember specific pieces that accompanied me through certain episodes in my life, how I was hunched over listening to early Philip Glass coming out of my boombox cranked to full volume, and how I would go out of my way to see Philip Glass’ music live when his ensemble was in town. Even my lukewarm appreciation of his opera Appomattox at the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco was still a memorable experience nonetheless.  Read the rest of this entry »