These gentlemen do a bang-up job of rendering a joyous and splendid version of a quintessentially joyous and campy piece of music--the best, for sprightly, but not rushed, tempo, and perfectly articulated parts, that I could find on YouTube. I could find nothing in history, or on the Internet, however, to indicate how the original Queen of Sheba was supposed to "arrive," or what she looked like in so doing, at the beginning of the third and last act of Handel's oratorio Solomon. As I remember from my youthful (King James') Bible studies, the Queen of Sheba described herself as "dark, but comely," as, I think we can all agree, this mannequin-lady is. And, my notion is, that, as a queen arriving (in what is basically a static baroque opera), she needs to have feathers (nodding plumes) on her head, and be wearing a hoop skirt (and supplemental draperies), and, in general, be moving like a tall ship under full sail, gliding over rolling billows--which I'm sure this handsome Negress could well portray.
I burn hot. I tend to exhaust people in conversation, like Margaret Fuller did Carlyle. Which leaves me (but apparently not Margaret) always wishing I'd shut up sooner. I have quite a few friends and not many enemies, but I'm very proud of the few I do have. There is consensus among my friends about me, which is how I know to write about myself. What my enemies think of me I have no idea. That, of course, could be dangerous.
The list of interests and favorites is absurdly partial and half-assed, particularly as to music and books. It's the stupid format of the blog itself, as given, that, of course, I color outside the lines and burst the seams of.
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