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The Arts, The Forty-Ninth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

The Arts, The Forty-Ninth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal
Dec 09, 2023 by Janet Zinn

I’m watching Barbra Streisand on PBS in her Back to Brooklyn concert.  The first time I heard her voice was in 1968 when the movie Funny Girl came out.  I was enthralled, though I wouldn’t have known that word as an eight-year-old.  Since then I’ve been a fan, attending her movies, and watching her tv specials.  I only had the opportunity to see her in-person once when she came back to Brooklyn in 2016.  It was magical.  

Live Music, The Seventh Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

Live Music, The Seventh Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal
Feb 18, 2023 by Janet Zinn
The power of music, particularly music that is performed with great love and skill can be transformative.  This past week I was fortunate enough to attend two live concerts, very different styles, but very similar intentions of sharing joy through their performances.  

A Show Under the Stars

A Show Under the Stars
Sep 04, 2018 by Janet Zinn
It was around 1974. It had to be since it took about four years for my mom to perfect her tennis game.  She played every day at the Cherry Hill Tennis Courts.  She started out at the free outdoor courts in Kressen Woods, but it didn’t take long for my mom to realize that indoor courts were her best bet.    It was winter so playing indoor tennis made sense.  On that chilly  Wednesday I answered the phone, hopeful that a friend was calling.  But it was for my Mom.  The rich, low voice on the other end said he was Gladys Knight’s manager and wanted to see if Arlene, my mom, would play mixed doubles with them. I could not believe...

The Voice

The Voice
Aug 15, 2016 by Janet Zinn
 

The movie Funny Girl opened in 1968. I was eight years old and in Third Grade, struggling with Mrs. Mishaw, the dower educator who wore Irish wool suits and had no patience for fools. I was a dreamy fool finding solace in movies. Barbra Streisand as Fanny Brice became my hero. Fanny Brice for celebrating her kooky self, and Barbra for singing so magnificently. She was the balm for an otherwise abrasive year.



 

This past week I got to revisit the magnificence of Ms. Streisand singing “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” She brought down the Brooklyn house with her clear, luminous voice. I was enthralled then, as I am now. And, if that weren’t enough, she sang at least three Sondheim...