In 1956, when Summy-Birchard published Farkas's book, he was a solo horn player for the Chicago Symphony and had held similar positions with other orchestras, including the Boston Symphony, Cleveland Orchestra, and Kansas City Conservatory, DePaul University, Northwestern University, and Roosevelt University in Chicago. The Art of French Horn Playing set the pattern, and other books in the series soon followed, offering help to students in learning to master their instruments and achieve their goals.

    Updated with an insightful introduction and a revised discography, both written by celebrated music writer David Ritz.Lady Sings the Blues is the fiercely honest, no-holds-barred autobiography of Billie Holiday, the legendary jazz, swing, and standards singing sensation. Taking the reader on a fast-moving journey from Holiday’s rough-and-tumble Baltimore childhood (where she ran errands at a whorehouse in exchange for the chance to listen to Louis Armstrong and Bessie Smith albums), to her emergence on Harlem’s club scene, to sold-out performances with the Count Basie Orchestra and with Artie Shaw and his band, this revelatory memoir is notable for its trenchant observations on the racism that darkened Billie’s life and the heroin addiction that ended it too soon. We are with her during the mesmerizing debut of “Strange Fruit”; with her as she rubs shoulders with the biggest movie stars and musicians of the day (Bob Hope, Lana Turner, Clark Gable, Benny Goodman, Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins, and more); and with her through the scrapes with Jim Crow, spats with Sarah Vaughan, ignominious jailings, and tragic decline. All of this is told in Holiday’s tart, streetwise style and hip patois that makes it read as if it were written yesterday.

    Taking the reader on a fast-moving journey from Holiday’s rough-and-tumble Baltimore childhood (where she ran errands at a whorehouse in exchange for the chance to listen to Louis Armstrong and Bessie Smith albums), to her emergence on Harlem’s club scene, to sold-out performances with the Count Basie Orchestra and with Artie Shaw and his band, this revelatory memoir is notable for its trenchant observations on the racism that darkened Billie’s life and the heroin addiction that ended it too soon. We are with her during the mesmerizing debut of “Strange Fruit”; with her as she rubs shoulders with the biggest movie stars and musicians of the day (Bob Hope, Lana Turner, Clark Gable, Benny Goodman, Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins, and more); and with her through the scrapes with Jim Crow, spats with Sarah Vaughan, ignominious jailings, and tragic decline. All of this is told in Holiday’s tart, streetwise style and hip patois that makes it read as if it were written yesterday.

    When Bertensson and Leyda's 1956 biography first appeared, it lifted the veil from several areas of Rachmaninoff's life, especially the genesis of his compositions and how their critical reception affected him.The authors consulted a number of people who knew Rachmaninoff, worked with him, and corresponded with him. Even with the availabilty of such sources and full access to the Rachmaninoff Archive at the Library of Congress, the authors were tireless in their pursuit of privately held documents, in particular his correspondence. Their labors masterfully incorporates primary materials into the narrative. Almost half a century after it first appeared, this volume remains essential reading.

    With its breadth of material, notes on sources, extended introduction and indexes, it is indispensable both as a choral collection and as a standard reference book.

    These 142 pieces by the masters of piano literature date from the second half of the 17th century to the present day.

    For the meaning and mystery of the words, as well as the introductions to each song, Walt Kelly shoulders the responsibility. Most of the music (it is arranged for piano but will also serve comb-with-tissue-paper, fife, and gong) was composed by Norman Monath. Kelly's drawings, all of them in color, are meant to explain Monath's music, whereas Monath's music has somewhat the purpose of explaining Kelly's text. It is the intent of this book to make people leave the TV sets of bars and grills to gather, singing once again, about the old family upright, and then soberly to return to the bars and grills and think things over.

    As the author eloquently demonstrates, Berloiz was an archetype whose destiny was the story of an age, the incarnation of an artistic style and a historical spirit. "In order to understand the nineteenth century, it is essential to understand Berlioz," notes W. H. Auden, "and in order to understand Berlioz, it is essential to read Professor Barzun."