At several points during my viewing of this film, one question kept nagging at me: Who is the target audience? To answer that query, it is necessary to understand the content of this movie.

The world never stopped for Eleanor Aller, and if it had, she would have made sure it was spinning again. Once you met her, she etched an indelible mark onto your soul. Tough, gentle, funny, and serious, Mom was a true force of nature.

Films about classical music and the artists who inhabit this world are becoming all the rage. Over the past year, I have seen a documentary about Marin Alsop, learned of an upcoming biopic about Leonard Bernstein, and discovered the recently released Tár.

My brother, Fred, did not know that I was writing a chapter about him for inclusion in a future book, recounting events from many years ago. I meant for this to be a surprise, possibly not sharing it with him until publication.

Moving back to this city was supposed to be a return to the civility associated with the Midwest. St. Louis is the place where most of my happiest days have been spent. Sure, there have been troubling incidents in the past, and dangers continue to lurk as we grapple with the coronavirus.

If you were on Frank’s good side, you could not ask for a better friend. And if the opposite were the case, you could not ask for a worse enemy. At least that is what they used to say. Fortunately for my family, the former was always true.

They say that time flies when you are having fun. If that is true, time went by at supersonic speed. It’s hard to believe that it was 50 years ago that I first stepped on the podium at Powell Hall.

Versatility: “The ability to adapt or be adapted to many different functions or activities.”

Merriam-Webster might as well have put a picture of André Previn next to this entry in their dictionary. There was no limit to what he could do.

“If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him.”

John F. Kennedy spoke those words more than half a century ago. They ring as true now as they have throughout history.

During the summer months, music festivals abound all over the globe. Some are fully professional and others are distinguished by their educational activities. I don’t have a preference, but in recent years, a disturbing trend has emerged from the latter.

About 12 years ago, when my son was 8, he played soccer for his middle-school team. Every Saturday, as a somewhat dutiful parent, I showed up and watched this sport, which seemed as far away from the culture I grew up in as it is prevalent today.

Several months ago, I wrote on this site about the lack of younger American talent on the podiums of major orchestras in the United States. Since there are still a couple of ensembles that have not yet announced their 14-15 season plans, the follow-up article is still in limbo.

It is always astonishing when a simple gesture leads to a heated debate. At the start of a tour to Florida with the Detroit Symphony, we decided to try something just a bit different. When the program concluded, I asked the audience to do something completely opposite of what the Voice of God told them at the top of the show.

I have been working on a new chapter of a book about the challenges faced by the classical music industry. That portion is concerned with discrimination as it has manifested itself and where we are today.