I have always loved march music. Play me "The Stars and Stripes Forever" and I'm toe-tapping and on the edge of my seat in eager anticipation of the piccolo solo in the middle. I adore the piccolo, I suppose because it reminds me of a songbird singing its little heart out. Or maybe it's because that high frequency serenade was missing in my life for 20+ years.
We attended a concert tonight that was billed as a tribute to John Philip Sousa. (There are some wonderful perks for those of us who reside in a town with a university that is renown for its music department.) We sat in the front row in the balcony, but I was really in 7th heaven! During the second musical piece, I nonchalantly detached my headpiece from first one ear and th
en the other to compare the sound of the xylophone and the wood block. I loved the clarity and sharpness of the new Harmony, but I also missed the mellow bass fullness of the clunkier sound of the old C1. So these occasional experiments were conducted as quickly as possible because together the two CI's provide the creme de la creme of sound in a live performance.
en the other to compare the sound of the xylophone and the wood block. I loved the clarity and sharpness of the new Harmony, but I also missed the mellow bass fullness of the clunkier sound of the old C1. So these occasional experiments were conducted as quickly as possible because together the two CI's provide the creme de la creme of sound in a live performance.
Take a bow, Stetson University Symphony Band.
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