[...] David Hurwitz begins saying that when he says "the Lieder problem” he should say “my Lieder problem”, and admits he doesn't like Lieder (or mélodie, etc.) So far, nothing new; most classical music lovers don't. He says he prefers to listen to contemporary songs; again, nothing new. But then he says: “I have no reason to listen to songs because they are not better than contemporary song.” That really surprises me. I won't go into consider whether Frank Zappa is better than Franz Schubert [...]

I told you last week that this week we would start the new season. But the truth is that, strictly speaking and to follow the tradition, it should start next week, the first Wednesday of September. It's not that important, but the thing is that I'm writing these lines in the middle of Schubertíada, with the head full of music and no time to focus on a long article. I hope you won't mind if, one more week, I post a short article.

Imagine a beautiful village at the Empordà (not far away from Vilabertran) at that time when the benefits of bathing in sea were beginning to be appreciated. Imagine that that village, which has a very active harbour, also has an efficient railway connection to Girona. Finally, imagine that this village has an important industry that favours relations with Europe. All this speaks of a prosperous village, full of people that come and go, whether they are tourists or dealers on a bussiness trip. [...].

If I tell you that the poem that inspired this week's song was written by a Cistercian monk you might think of a religious or contemplative poem, but it's actually an earthly love poem; it appears that our monk, Cristóbal de Castillejo, led a life that didn't fulfilled the vows he had taken. [...]

Francis Poulenc composed the cycle Fiançailles pour rire just after the beginning of the World War II, and he did so because of the war. That's how he explained it: "Had it not been for the war I should doubtless never have written this cycle. I hasten to excuse myself for an assertion which at first glance may seem paradoxical. I composed Fiançailles pour rire so that I could more often turn my thoughts towards Louise de Vilmorin, imprisoned in her castle in Hungary for God knows how long. That was [...]