Well John, flame of my heart, if there’s one thing that can absolutely be said about our relationship at this point, it’s that you know how to spell my name correctly.
Ecoute: I know you’ve known about my blog for a few months now although you haven’t really read any of it, opting instead to let your friends/fans/acquaintances describe it to you in an offhanded way as thoughtfully or not as they care to, giving you all something to genteelly snigger at on a Sunday…and that’s cool by me, I can’t stop you. You’ve got your mates. (Know what my mates call you? “Some English guy who does that thing over there.”)
Anyway, for a little while at the beginning of my feelings for you (this would have been around July of last year) I was quite content to simply go on slavering after you adolescently but unobtrusively, in that old Tiger Beat way (you know, “Win a Date With Conductor John Wilson!!!” etc etc)—but when I finally caught up with your 2017 video clips that all changed, because you put Mamoulian back inside my head, thank you very much.
Don’t get me wrong, I was always intending to talk about The Old Man one of these days, in my own time. But you kind of forced my hand when you started to blather about the original production of Oklahoma. Now, there were productions of his Mamoulian liked to talk about, Carousel…Porgy and Bess…The Song of Songs…Queen Christina…but he one he talked about the most was Oklahoma. We’ll go into that in an upcoming post, which I think I will call “John Wilson Conducts Oklahoma at the 2017 BBC Proms, Rouben Mamoulian Howls In Protest from His Grave, Part 2”. (Part 1 here.)
For now John, let me give you something nice because I’m in love with you and I want to give you nice things. You might be interested in this story Mamoulian told me about crying violins.
[more later, fixing dinner, will get to porn asap]