Podcasts about Zarah Leander

"Kann denn Liebe Sünde sein?", diese Frage hat sich bereits im Jahr 1938 die schwedische Künstlerin Zarah Leander gestellt. In politischen aufgeladenen Zeiten wie diesen ist sie aktueller denn je, findet auch unser heutiger Gast Rainer Teuber. Er ist Mitbegründer der Initiative "Out in Church", die sich für die Gleichberechtigung queerer Menschen in der katholischen Kirche einsetzt und "Für eine Kirche ohne Angst" stark macht. Seit der Gründung und einem Gruppen-Coming-out vor drei Jahren konnte die Initiative, die heute ein Verein ist, erste Erfolge erzielen. Dazu gehört die Nicht-Kündbarkeit von Angestellten in der katholischen Kirche aufgrund ihrer sexuellen Orientierung. Und trotzdem: Es ist noch viel Luft nach oben, sagt Teuber. Heute ist er unser Gast. Herzlich willkommen!

Warum sind wir bereit, für manche Dinge zu bestimmten Tageszeiten mehr Geld zu bezahlen. Diese Frage finde ich sehr spannend. Wenn wir abends ausgehen wollen und es ein schöner Abend werden soll, dann sind wir auch bereit, Geld zu investieren. Wenn wir in der Nacht mit dem Auto unterwegs sind und wir müssen Nachtanken, dann nehmen wir eben die Tankstelle die noch geöffnet hat, wir wollen ja ans Ziel kommen, Preis hin oder her. Wenn wir ein Produkt oder eine Dienstleistung besonders reizvoll empfinden, dann bezahlen wir auch den Preis der ausgezeichnet ist. Kurzum: Wenn es was Richtiges sein soll, dann kostet es auch was. Abenteuer sind am Abend teuer und noch teurer sind sie bei Nacht. Was macht dieser Satz mir Dir Schreibe mir gerne eine Nachricht über mein Kontaktformular unter http://geldbewusst.wordpress.com Übrigens: Das Lied, welches mich zu dieser Folge inspiriert hat, stamm von Zarah Leander. Es heißt “Abenteuer sind am Abend teuer”

Rökk Marika, a múlt század 30-as és 40-es éveinek ünnepelt primadonnája, Németország legnagyobb revüfilm-sztárja, aki még 85 évesen is táncra perdült a színpadon. Marie Karoline Rökk néven magyar szülőktől Kairóban született, de Budapesten nőtt fel, itt lépett fel először egy gyermekbalettben. A család 1924-ben Párizsba költözött, ahol a karrierre vágyó, törekvő lány megismerkedett a színpad világával. Amikor apja elvesztette vagyonát, tizenkét évesen már a Gertrude Hoffmann Girls tagjaként a Moulin Rouge-ban fellépő Marika jelentősen hozzájárult megélhetésükhöz. Az együttessel Amerikában is turnéztak, a lányt a Broadwayn „a piruett királynőjeként” ünnepelték. Európába visszatérve táncosnőként és énekesnőként is nagy sikert aratott, brit és magyar filmekben szerezte első filmes tapasztalatait. Az ifjú művésznő éppen Bécsben, A cirkusz csillaga című revüben lépett fel, amikor felfedezte a Hitler hatalomra jutása után kivándorolt csillagait pótolni akaró német UFA filmgyár. Rökk Marika 1933-ban telepedett le Berlinben, első jelentős szerepét 1935-ben kapta a Könnyűlovasság című filmben. Ettől kezdve Johannes Heesters és Zarah Leander mellett a náci Németország egyik nagy csillaga lett, számtalan operettben és revüfilmben játszott, tanúbizonyságot adva zenei és komikusi képességeiről. Legnagyobb sikerei közé sorolhatók a Marica grófnő, a Koldusdiák és az Álmaim asszonya, számos filmjét későbbi férje, Georg Jacoby rendezte, 1941-ben például ő alakította az első színes német játékfilm főszerepét is. Viharos gyorsaságú szteppelésével és forgásaival, természetes bájával elkápráztatta közönségét. Egy alkalommal Honthy Hannától vett át egy szerepet, amit a Honthy nehezen emésztett, mondván: „De hiszen ez nem tud énekelni”. Amikor a megjegyzés Rökk Marika fülébe jutott, öntudatosan így válaszolt: „Ami neki a torkában, az nekem a lábamban van”. A második világháború után múltja miatt egy időre eltiltották a fellépéstől. Idővel pletykák keltek szárnyra arról, hogy afféle második Mata Hariként az amerikaiaknak kémkedett, sőt a kilencvenes években a szovjet titkosrendőrség egykori főnökének, Lavrentyij Berijának a fia azt állította, hogy a primadonna szovjet kém is volt. Maga Rökk Marika ezt badarságnak nevezte, az viszont tény, hogy filmjeinek kópiái hadizsákmányként elkerültek a Szovjetunióba, ahol rövidesen vetíteni kezdték a mozikban, később a tévében is, és Rökk Marika ott is nagy sztár lett. Forgatni csak 1948-ban kezdett újra, de korábbi sikereit már nem tudta megismételni, így 1962-ben hátat fordított a kamerának és végleg a színpad felé fordult. Operettekben és musicalekben, például a Hello Dollyban játszott, énekelt Hamburgban, Berlinben, Münchenben, Hollandia és Belgium nagyobb városaiban. Idősebb korára visszavonult a Bécs melletti Badenben, de ha hívták, vissza-visszatért a színpadra. 1992-ben, Kálmán Imre születésének 110. évfordulója alkalmából az akkor 79 éves Rökk Marika óriási sikerrel lépett fel Budapesten a Marica grófnőben, abban a szerepében, amelyet pályája során több mint hétszázszor alakított. 1998-ban ötödször is megkapta a német közönség nagy kedvenceinek járó Bambi-díjat, a televízióban utoljára 85 évesen szerepelt, még akkor is énekelt és táncolt. Rökk Marika, aki egész életében büszkén hangoztatta magyar származását, 2004-ben hunyt el Badenben, 90 éves korában. Hogyan támogathatja a munkánkat? Legyen a patronálónk, és a támogatása mértékétől függően egyre több előnyhöz juthat: https://www.patreon.com/FriderikuszPodcast Egyszeri vagy rendszeres banki átutalással is segíthet. Ehhez a legfontosabb adatok: Név: TV Pictures Számlaszám: OTP Bank 11707062-21446081 Közlemény: Podcast-támogatás Ha külföldről utalna, nemzetközi számlaszámunk (IBAN - International Bank Account Number): HU68 1170 7062 2144 6081 0000 0000 BIC/SWIFT-kód: OTPVHUHB Akármilyen formában támogatja munkánkat, köszönjük! Kövessenek, kövessetek itt is: youtube: https://www.youtube.com/c/FriderikuszPodcast

Idag pratar vi ännu en gång om en av Europas största primadonnor. En kvinna som föddes 1907 i Karlstad, som bröt igenom i revyscenen men sedan kom att bli det tredje rikets största stjärna. Propagandaministern Joseph Goebbels skrev det följande i sin dagbok under andra världskriget: “de ekonomiska vinningarna med Zarah Leander är enorma.” Samma Goebbels som hon skulle träffa och umgås med över hundra gånger. Det var också han som Zarah skulle förhandla sina avtal med. Men vem var egentligen den svenska stjärnan med en oerhört unik, mörk kontraalt till sångröst? Det ska vi försöka att ta reda på under två avsnitt. Så följ med!! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Nous sommes le 28 mars 1933, à Berlin. Quinze jour plus tôt, Joseph Goebbels est devenu ministre de l'Education du peuple et de la Propagande. Alors que le boycott antisémite mis en place par les nazis, doit entrer officiellement en vigueur le 1er avril, il écrit dans son journal : « Le cinéma ne peut redevenir sain que s'il revient à sa germanité et cherche les racines de sa force dans la nature allemande . » Le soir même, à l'hôtel Kaiserhof, devant le gratin du septième art, Goebbels annonce le programme des années à venir : « Nous sommes là, maintenant, martèle-t-il, nous ne partirons plus ! La révolution nationale ne se limitera pas uniquement à la politique, elle s'étendra aussi au cinéma. » Et c'est ainsi que comédies, mélodrames, films d'amour, musicaux ou policiers vont constituer le gros de la production du cinéma sous le national-socialisme, supplantant, en nombre, les films franchement antisémites et les documentaires, comme ceux de Leni Riefenstahl, exaltant la grandeur des aryens. Une industrie donc qui fait la part belle au divertissement, à l'image de la grande rivale hollywoodienne, que les studios de Babelsberg rêvent de concurrencer. Le cinéma allemand, au plus sombre de l'histoire du pays et de l'Europe, va connaître une sorte d'âge d'or. En effet, jamais il n'y eut autant de magazines pour parler de ses stars. Des actrices, notamment, adulées comme des icônes. Des déesses païennes que les nazis vont utiliser pour leur pouvoir de fascination sur le peuple allemand afin de lui faire oublier les horreurs de la guerre. Qui sont ces actrices ? Quels archétypes incarnent-elles ? Ont-elles été conscientes de la nature du régime auxquels elles ont participé ? Que sont devenues, après la guerre, les Zarah Leander, Marianne Hoppe ou Lilian Harvey ? Regardons en face un univers de paillettes et de torrents de sang… Invitée : Isabelle Mity, enseigne la langue et la civilisation allemandes à l'Université Paris-Dauphine. Autrice de : « Les actrices du IIIe Reich – Splendeurs et misères des icônes du Hollywood nazi » aux éditions Perrin. Sujets traités: III Reich, cinéma, actrices, propagande,Joseph Goebbels, nazis, films, Leni Riefenstahl,Zarah Leander, Marianne Hoppe, Lilian Harvey Merci pour votre écoute Un Jour dans l'Histoire, c'est également en direct tous les jours de la semaine de 13h15 à 15h sur www.rtbf.be/lapremiere Retrouvez tous les épisodes d'Un Jour dans l'Histoire sur notre plateforme Auvio.be : https://auvio.rtbf.be/emission/5936 Et si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement.

Idag pratar vi om en av Europas största primadonnor. En kvinna som föddes 1907 i Karlstad, som bröt igenom i revyscenen men sedan kom att bli det tredje rikets största stjärna. Propagandaministern Joseph Goebbels skrev det följande i sin dagbok under andra världskriget: “de ekonomiska vinningarna med Zarah Leander är enorma.” Samma Goebbels som hon skulle träffa och umgås med över hundra gånger. Det var också han som Zarah skulle förhandla sina avtal med. Men vem var egentligen den svenska stjärnan med en oerhört unik, mörk kontraalt till sångröst? Det ska vi försöka att ta reda på under två avsnitt. Så följ med!! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Anita Eberwein hat sich schon früh der Musik verschrieben. Mit 16 begann sie in verschiedenen Bands zu singen und sammelte erste Tonstudioerfahrungen. Sie absolvierte das Konservatorium Wien im Bereich „Musical und Operette“ mit Auszeichnung und ging ans HB-Studio nach New York, um Schauspiel zu studieren. Nach „ Nunsense“ am Graumanntheater und verschiedenen kleineren Produktionen feierte sie als Maria in „ Sound of Music“ am Schauspielhaus ihren ersten großen Erfolg. Danach folgte ua ein Engagement am Theater in der Josefstadt und am Theater der Westens in Berlin, wo sie als Roxanne in „Cyrano“ zu sehen war.

Kaffepojkarna knackar på. Med avsnitt 269. Musik & prat & skvaller på fat. I dag är skivspelaren laddad med Elvis, Zarah Leander, Bo Kaspers orkester och gud vet vad. Varsågoda!

Come on over have some fun, dancing in the morning sun. Timothy Trust & Martin Sierp haben diese Woche das Bacardi Feeling, denn mit diesen Themen geht alles: Sprache verbessern, Vorsätze, Rückblick 2023, Barfuss im Wald, Heavy Metal Rentner, orientierungslos am Steuer, Weihnachten 2023, die Tag werden wieder länger, der dünne Verkäufer, Zarah Leander, Monika Bacardi, der Schwert-Fetischist, Sterillium, Kevin - Allein zu Haus, Ekel Alfred und Maestro. Höre dir diese Folge an - You know when it's komische Gespräche! HIER KANNST DU UNS ÜBERALL HÖREN: https://linktr.ee/komischegespraeche HIER KANNST DU UNS AUF KAFFEE EINLADEN: https://ko-fi.com/komischegespraechepodcast HIER GEHT ES ZUR KOMISCHE MUSIKE PLAYLIST AUF SPOTIFY: https://tinyurl.com/komischeMusike

In Essen wird der rote Teppich ausgerollt: Die Lichtburg, das größte Kino in Deutschland, feiert 95. Geburtstag. In dem Prachtbau am Burgplatz haben schon Stars von Zarah Leander über Lex Barker bis Elyas M'Barek ihren Fans zugewinkt. Von Andrea Burtz.

Teach me Sweden är en podcast om svensk historia med komikerna Jonathan Rollins (US) och Erik Broström (SE). Varje vecka läser en av dem för den andra om en händelse i svensk historia som förmodligen ingen av dem hört tidigare.I veckans avsnitt får Jonathan lära sig om sångfågeln som, med sin djupa röst, tog både Sverige och Tyskland med storm...under en väldigt stormig tid i Europas historia.www.patreon.com/teachmesweden Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Zarah Leander sang für die Deutschen und sorgte für die gute Laune, die Goebbels als wichtigste Waffe im Krieg bezeichnete. Dafür fiel sie in ihrem Heimatland Schweden in Ungnade. Kann es sein, dass sie in Wahrheit für Russland spionierte? // Von Jutta Jakobi/ DLF Kultur 2008/ www.radiofeature.wdr Von Jutta Jakobi.

Zarah Leander sang für die Deutschen und sorgte für die gute Laune, die Goebbels als wichtigste Waffe im Krieg bezeichnete. Dafür fiel sie in ihrem Heimatland Schweden in Ungnade. Kann es sein, dass sie in Wahrheit für Russland spionierte? // Von Jutta Jakobi/ DLF Kultur 2008/ www.radiofeature.wdr Von Jutta Jakobi.

Episode 164 of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at "White Light/White Heat" and the career of the Velvet Underground. This is a long one, lasting three hours and twenty minutes. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a twenty-three minute bonus episode available, on "Why Don't You Smile Now?" by the Downliners Sect. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Errata I say the Velvet Underground didn't play New York for the rest of the sixties after 1966. They played at least one gig there in 1967, but did generally avoid the city. Also, I refer to Cale and Conrad as the other surviving members of the Theater of Eternal Music. Sadly Conrad died in 2016. Resources No Mixcloud this week, as there are too many songs by the Velvet Underground, and some of the avant-garde pieces excerpted run to six hours or more. I used a lot of resources for this one. Up-Tight: The Velvet Underground Story by Victor Bockris and Gerard Malanga is the best book on the group as a group. I also used Joe Harvard's 33 1/3 book on The Velvet Underground and Nico. Bockris also wrote one of the two biographies of Reed I referred to, Transformer. The other was Lou Reed by Anthony DeCurtis. Information on Cale mostly came from Sedition and Alchemy by Tim Mitchell. Information on Nico came from Nico: The Life and Lies of an Icon by Richard Witts. I used Draw a Straight Line and Follow it by Jeremy Grimshaw as my main source for La Monte Young, The Roaring Silence by David Revill for John Cage, and Warhol: A Life as Art by Blake Gopnik for Warhol. I also referred to the Criterion Collection Blu-Ray of the 2021 documentary The Velvet Underground.  The definitive collection of the Velvet Underground's music is the sadly out-of-print box set Peel Slowly and See, which contains the four albums the group made with Reed in full, plus demos, outtakes, and live recordings. Note that the digital version of the album as sold by Amazon for some reason doesn't include the last disc -- if you want the full box set you have to buy a physical copy. All four studio albums have also been released and rereleased many times over in different configurations with different numbers of CDs at different price points -- I have used the "45th Anniversary Super-Deluxe" versions for this episode, but for most people the standard CD versions will be fine. Sadly there are no good shorter compilation overviews of the group -- they tend to emphasise either the group's "pop" mode or its "avant-garde" mode to the exclusion of the other. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript Before I begin this episode, there are a few things to say. This introductory section is going to be longer than normal because, as you will hear, this episode is also going to be longer than normal. Firstly, I try to warn people about potentially upsetting material in these episodes. But this is the first episode for 1968, and as you will see there is a *profound* increase in the amount of upsetting and disturbing material covered as we go through 1968 and 1969. The story is going to be in a much darker place for the next twenty or thirty episodes. And this episode is no exception. As always, I try to deal with everything as sensitively as possible, but you should be aware that the list of warnings for this one is so long I am very likely to have missed some. Among the topics touched on in this episode are mental illness, drug addiction, gun violence, racism, societal and medical homophobia, medical mistreatment of mental illness, domestic abuse, rape, and more. If you find discussion of any of those subjects upsetting, you might want to read the transcript. Also, I use the term "queer" freely in this episode. In the past I have received some pushback for this, because of a belief among some that "queer" is a slur. The following explanation will seem redundant to many of my listeners, but as with many of the things I discuss in the podcast I am dealing with multiple different audiences with different levels of awareness and understanding of issues, so I'd like to beg those people's indulgence a moment. The term "queer" has certainly been used as a slur in the past, but so have terms like "lesbian", "gay", "homosexual" and others. In all those cases, the term has gone from a term used as a self-identifier, to a slur, to a reclaimed slur, and back again many times. The reason for using that word, specifically, here is because the vast majority of people in this story have sexualities or genders that don't match the societal norms of their times, but used labels for themselves that have shifted in meaning over the years. There are at least two men in the story, for example, who are now dead and referred to themselves as "homosexual", but were in multiple long-term sexually-active relationships with women. Would those men now refer to themselves as "bisexual" or "pansexual" -- terms not in widespread use at the time -- or would they, in the relatively more tolerant society we live in now, only have been in same-gender relationships? We can't know. But in our current context using the word "homosexual" for those men would lead to incorrect assumptions about their behaviour. The labels people use change over time, and the definitions of them blur and shift. I have discussed this issue with many, many, friends who fall under the queer umbrella, and while not all of them are comfortable with "queer" as a personal label because of how it's been used against them in the past, there is near-unanimity from them that it's the correct word to use in this situation. Anyway, now that that rather lengthy set of disclaimers is over, let's get into the story proper, as we look at "White Light, White Heat" by the Velvet Underground: [Excerpt: The Velvet Underground, "White Light, White Heat"] And that look will start with... a disclaimer about length. This episode is going to be a long one. Not as long as episode one hundred and fifty, but almost certainly the longest episode I'll do this year, by some way. And there's a reason for that. One of the questions I've been asked repeatedly over the years about the podcast is why almost all the acts I've covered have been extremely commercially successful ones. "Where are the underground bands? The alternative bands? The little niche acts?" The answer to that is simple. Until the mid-sixties, the idea of an underground or alternative band made no sense at all in rock, pop, rock and roll, R&B, or soul. The idea would have been completely counterintuitive to the vast majority of the people we've discussed in the podcast. Those musics were commercial musics, made by people who wanted to make money and to  get the largest audiences possible. That doesn't mean that they had no artistic merit, or that there was no artistic intent behind them, but the artists making that music were *commercial* artists. They knew if they wanted to make another record, they had to sell enough copies of the last record for the record company to make another, and that if they wanted to keep eating, they had to draw enough of an audience to their gigs for promoters to keep booking them. There was no space in this worldview for what we might think of as cult success. If your record only sold a thousand copies, then you had failed in your goal, even if the thousand people who bought your record really loved it. Even less commercially successful artists we've covered to this point, like the Mothers of Invention or Love, were *trying* for commercial success, even if they made the decision not to compromise as much as others do. This started to change a tiny bit in the mid-sixties as the influence of jazz and folk in the US, and the British blues scene, started to be felt in rock music. But this influence, at first, was a one-way thing -- people who had been in the folk and jazz worlds deciding to modify their music to be more commercial. And that was followed by already massively commercial musicians, like the Beatles, taking on some of those influences and bringing their audience with them. But that started to change around the time that "rock" started to differentiate itself from "rock and roll" and "pop", in mid 1967. So in this episode and the next, we're going to look at two bands who in different ways provided a model for how to be an alternative band. Both of them still *wanted* commercial success, but neither achieved it, at least not at first and not in the conventional way. And both, when they started out, went by the name The Warlocks. But we have to take a rather circuitous route to get to this week's band, because we're now properly introducing a strand of music that has been there in the background for a while -- avant-garde art music. So before we go any further, let's have a listen to a thirty-second clip of the most famous piece of avant-garde music ever, and I'll be performing it myself: [Excerpt, Andrew Hickey "4'33 (Cage)"] Obviously that won't give the full effect, you have to listen to the whole piece to get that. That is of course a section of "4'33" by John Cage, a piece of music that is often incorrectly described as being four minutes and thirty three seconds of silence. As I've mentioned before, though, in the episode on "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag", it isn't that at all. The whole point of the piece is that there is no such thing as silence, and it's intended to make the listener appreciate all the normal ambient sounds as music, every bit as much as any piece by Bach or Beethoven. John Cage, the composer of "4'33", is possibly the single most influential avant-garde artist of the mid twentieth century, so as we're properly introducing the ideas of avant-garde music into the story here, we need to talk about him a little. Cage was, from an early age, torn between three great vocations, all of which in some fashion would shape his work for decades to come. One of these was architecture, and for a time he intended to become an architect. Another was the religious ministry, and he very seriously considered becoming a minister as a young man, and religion -- though not the religious faith of his youth -- was to be a massive factor in his work as he grew older. He started studying music from an early age, though he never had any facility as a performer -- though he did, when he discovered the work of Grieg, think that might change. He later said “For a while I played nothing else. I even imagined devoting my life to the performance of his works alone, for they did not seem to me to be too difficult, and I loved them.” [Excerpt: Grieg piano concerto in A minor] But he soon realised that he didn't have some of the basic skills that would be required to be a performer -- he never actually thought of himself as very musical -- and so he decided to move into composition, and he later talked about putting his musical limits to good use in being more inventive. From his very first pieces, Cage was trying to expand the definition of what a performance of a piece of music actually was. One of his friends, Harry Hay, who took part in the first documented performance of a piece by Cage, described how Cage's father, an inventor, had "devised a fluorescent light source over which Sample" -- Don Sample, Cage's boyfriend at the time -- "laid a piece of vellum painted with designs in oils. The blankets I was wearing were white, and a sort of lampshade shone coloured patterns onto me. It looked very good. The thing got so hot the designs began to run, but that only made it better.” Apparently the audience for this light show -- one that predated the light shows used by rock bands by a good thirty years -- were not impressed, though that may be more because the Santa Monica Women's Club in the early 1930s was not the vanguard of the avant-garde. Or maybe it was. Certainly the housewives of Santa Monica seemed more willing than one might expect to sign up for another of Cage's ideas. In 1933 he went door to door asking women if they would be interested in signing up to a lecture course from him on modern art and music. He told them that if they signed up for $2.50, he would give them ten lectures, and somewhere between twenty and forty of them signed up, even though, as he said later, “I explained to the housewives that I didn't know anything about either subject but that I was enthusiastic about both of them. I promised to learn faithfully enough about each subject so as to be able to give a talk an hour long each week.” And he did just that, going to the library every day and spending all week preparing an hour-long talk for them. History does not relate whether he ended these lectures by telling the housewives to tell just one friend about them. He said later “I came out of these lectures, with a devotion to the painting of Mondrian, on the one hand, and the music of Schoenberg on the other.” [Excerpt: Schoenberg, "Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte"] Schoenberg was one of the two most widely-respected composers in the world at that point, the other being Stravinsky, but the two had very different attitudes to composition. Schoenberg's great innovation was the creation and popularisation of the twelve-tone technique, and I should probably explain that a little before I go any further. Most Western music is based on an eight-note scale -- do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do -- with the eighth note being an octave up from the first. So in the key of C major that would be C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C: [demonstrates] And when you hear notes from that scale, if your ears are accustomed to basically any Western music written before about 1920, or any Western popular music written since then, you expect the melody to lead back to C, and you know to expect that because it only uses those notes -- there are differing intervals between them, some having a tone between them and some having a semitone, and you recognise the pattern. But of course there are other notes between the notes of that scale. There are actually an infinite number of these, but in conventional Western music we only look at a few more -- C# (or D flat), D# (or E flat), F# (or G flat), G# (or A flat) and A# (or B flat). If you add in all those notes you get this: [demonstrates] There's no clear beginning or end, no do for it to come back to. And Schoenberg's great innovation, which he was only starting to promote widely around this time, was to insist that all twelve notes should be equal -- his melodies would use all twelve of the notes the exact same number of times, and so if he used say a B flat, he would have to use all eleven other notes before he used B flat again in the piece. This was a radical new idea, but Schoenberg had only started advancing it after first winning great acclaim for earlier pieces, like his "Three Pieces for Piano", a work which wasn't properly twelve-tone, but did try to do without the idea of having any one note be more important than any other: [Excerpt: Schoenberg, "Three Pieces for Piano"] At this point, that work had only been performed in the US by one performer, Richard Buhlig, and hadn't been released as a recording yet. Cage was so eager to hear it that he'd found Buhlig's phone number and called him, asking him to play the piece, but Buhlig put the phone down on him. Now he was doing these lectures, though, he had to do one on Schoenberg, and he wasn't a competent enough pianist to play Schoenberg's pieces himself, and there were still no recordings of them. Cage hitch-hiked from Santa Monica to LA, where Buhlig lived, to try to get him to come and visit his class and play some of Schoenberg's pieces for them. Buhlig wasn't in, and Cage hung around in his garden hoping for him to come back -- he pulled the leaves off a bough from one of Buhlig's trees, going "He'll come back, he won't come back, he'll come back..." and the leaves said he'd be back. Buhlig arrived back at midnight, and quite understandably told the strange twenty-one-year-old who'd spent twelve hours in his garden pulling the leaves off his trees that no, he would not come to Santa Monica and give a free performance. But he did agree that if Cage brought some of his own compositions he'd give them a look over. Buhlig started giving Cage some proper lessons in composition, although he stressed that he was a performer, not a composer. Around this time Cage wrote his Sonata for Clarinet: [Excerpt: John Cage, "Sonata For Clarinet"] Buhlig suggested that Cage send that to Henry Cowell, the composer we heard about in the episode on "Good Vibrations" who was friends with Lev Termen and who created music by playing the strings inside a piano: [Excerpt: Henry Cowell, "Aeolian Harp and Sinister Resonance"] Cowell offered to take Cage on as an assistant, in return for which Cowell would teach him for a semester, as would Adolph Weiss, a pupil of Schoenberg's. But the goal, which Cowell suggested, was always to have Cage study with Schoenberg himself. Schoenberg at first refused, saying that Cage couldn't afford his price, but eventually took Cage on as a student having been assured that he would devote his entire life to music -- a promise Cage kept. Cage started writing pieces for percussion, something that had been very rare up to that point -- only a handful of composers, most notably Edgard Varese, had written pieces for percussion alone, but Cage was: [Excerpt: John Cage, "Trio"] This is often portrayed as a break from the ideals of his teacher Schoenberg, but in fact there's a clear continuity there, once you see what Cage was taking from Schoenberg. Schoenberg's work is, in some senses, about equality, about all notes being equal. Or to put it another way, it's about fairness. About erasing arbitrary distinctions. What Cage was doing was erasing the arbitrary distinction between the more and less prominent instruments. Why should there be pieces for solo violin or string quartet, but not for multiple percussion players? That said, Schoenberg was not exactly the most encouraging of teachers. When Cage invited Schoenberg to go to a concert of Cage's percussion work, Schoenberg told him he was busy that night. When Cage offered to arrange another concert for a date Schoenberg wasn't busy, the reply came "No, I will not be free at any time". Despite this, Cage later said “Schoenberg was a magnificent teacher, who always gave the impression that he was putting us in touch with musical principles,” and said "I literally worshipped him" -- a strong statement from someone who took religious matters as seriously as Cage. Cage was so devoted to Schoenberg's music that when a concert of music by Stravinsky was promoted as "music of the world's greatest living composer", Cage stormed into the promoter's office angrily, confronting the promoter and making it very clear that such things should not be said in the city where Schoenberg lived. Schoenberg clearly didn't think much of Cage's attempts at composition, thinking -- correctly -- that Cage had no ear for harmony. And his reportedly aggressive and confrontational teaching style didn't sit well with Cage -- though it seems very similar to a lot of the teaching techniques of the Zen masters he would later go on to respect. The two eventually parted ways, although Cage always spoke highly of Schoenberg. Schoenberg later gave Cage a compliment of sorts, when asked if any of his students had gone on to do anything interesting. At first he replied that none had, but then he mentioned Cage and said “Of course he's not a composer, but an inventor—of genius.” Cage was at this point very worried if there was any point to being a composer at all. He said later “I'd read Cowell's New Musical Resources and . . . The Theory of Rhythm. I had also read Chavez's Towards a New Music. Both works gave me the feeling that everything that was possible in music had already happened. So I thought I could never compose socially important music. Only if I could invent something new, then would I be useful to society. But that seemed unlikely then.” [Excerpt: John Cage, "Totem Ancestor"] Part of the solution came when he was asked to compose music for an abstract animation by the filmmaker Oskar Fischinger, and also to work as Fischinger's assistant when making the film. He was fascinated by the stop-motion process, and by the results of the film, which he described as "a beautiful film in which these squares, triangles and circles and other things moved and changed colour.” But more than that he was overwhelmed by a comment by Fischinger, who told him “Everything in the world has its own spirit, and this spirit becomes audible by setting it into vibration.” Cage later said “That set me on fire. He started me on a path of exploration of the world around me which has never stopped—of hitting and stretching and scraping and rubbing everything.” Cage now took his ideas further. His compositions for percussion had been about, if you like, giving the underdog a chance -- percussion was always in the background, why should it not be in the spotlight? Now he realised that there were other things getting excluded in conventional music -- the sounds that we characterise as noise. Why should composers work to exclude those sounds, but work to *include* other sounds? Surely that was... well, a little unfair? Eventually this would lead to pieces like his 1952 piece "Water Music", later expanded and retitled "Water Walk", which can be heard here in his 1959 appearance on the TV show "I've Got a Secret".  It's a piece for, amongst other things, a flowerpot full of flowers, a bathtub, a watering can, a pipe, a duck call, a blender full of ice cubes, and five unplugged radios: [Excerpt: John Cage "Water Walk"] As he was now avoiding pitch and harmony as organising principles for his music, he turned to time. But note -- not to rhythm. He said “There's none of this boom, boom, boom, business in my music . . . a measure is taken as a strict measure of time—not a one two three four—which I fill with various sounds.” He came up with a system he referred to as “micro-macrocosmic rhythmic structure,” what we would now call fractals, though that word hadn't yet been invented, where the structure of the whole piece was reflected in the smallest part of it. For a time he started moving away from the term music, preferring to refer to the "art of noise" or to "organised sound" -- though he later received a telegram from Edgard Varese, one of his musical heroes and one of the few other people writing works purely for percussion, asking him not to use that phrase, which Varese used for his own work. After meeting with Varese and his wife, he later became convinced that it was Varese's wife who had initiated the telegram, as she explained to Cage's wife "we didn't want your husband's work confused with my husband's work, any more than you'd want some . . . any artist's work confused with that of a cartoonist.” While there is a humour to Cage's work, I don't really hear much qualitative difference between a Cage piece like the one we just heard and a Varese piece like Ionisation: [Excerpt: Edgard Varese, "Ionisation"] But it was in 1952, the year of "Water Music" that John Cage made his two biggest impacts on the cultural world, though the full force of those impacts wasn't felt for some years. To understand Cage's 1952 work, you first have to understand that he had become heavily influenced by Zen, which at that time was very little known in the Western world. Indeed he had studied with Daisetsu Suzuki, who is credited with introducing Zen to the West, and said later “I didn't study music with just anybody; I studied with Schoenberg, I didn't study Zen with just anybody; I studied with Suzuki. I've always gone, insofar as I could, to the president of the company.” Cage's whole worldview was profoundly affected by Zen, but he was also naturally sympathetic to it, and his work after learning about Zen is mostly a continuation of trends we can already see. In particular, he became convinced that the point of music isn't to communicate anything between two people, rather its point is merely to be experienced. I'm far from an expert on Buddhism, but one way of thinking about its central lessons is that one should experience things as they are, experiencing the thing itself rather than one's thoughts or preconceptions about it. And so at Black Mountain college came Theatre Piece Number 1: [Excerpt: Edith Piaf, "La Vie En Rose" ] In this piece, Cage had set the audience on all sides, so they'd be facing each other. He stood on a stepladder, as colleagues danced in and around the audience, another colleague played the piano, two more took turns to stand on another stepladder to recite poetry, different films and slides were projected, seemingly at random, onto the walls, and the painter Robert Rauschenberg played scratchy Edith Piaf records on a wind-up gramophone. The audience were included in the performance, and it was meant to be experienced as a gestalt, as a whole, to be what we would now call an immersive experience. One of Cage's students around this time was the artist Allan Kaprow, and he would be inspired by Theatre Piece Number 1 to put on several similar events in the late fifties. Those events he called "happenings", because the point of them was that you were meant to experience an event as it was happening rather than bring preconceptions of form and structure to them. Those happenings were the inspiration for events like The 14 Hour Technicolor Dream, and the term "happening" became such an integral part of the counterculture that by 1967 there were comedy films being released about them, including one just called The Happening with a title track by the Supremes that made number one: [Excerpt: The Supremes, "The Happening"] Theatre Piece Number 1 was retrospectively considered the first happening, and as such its influence is incalculable. But one part I didn't mention about Theatre Piece Number 1 is that as well as Rauschenberg playing Edith Piaf's records, he also displayed some of his paintings. These paintings were totally white -- at a glance, they looked like blank canvases, but as one inspected them more clearly, it became apparent that Rauschenberg had painted them with white paint, with visible brushstrokes. These paintings, along with a visit to an anechoic chamber in which Cage discovered that even in total silence one can still hear one's own blood and nervous system, so will never experience total silence, were the final key to something Cage had been working towards -- if music had minimised percussion, and excluded noise, how much more had it excluded silence? As Cage said in 1958 “Curiously enough, the twelve-tone system has no zero in it.” And so came 4'33, the piece that we heard an excerpt of near the start of this episode. That piece was the something new he'd been looking for that could be useful to society. It took the sounds the audience could already hear, and without changing them even slightly gave them a new context and made the audience hear them as they were. Simply by saying "this is music", it caused the ambient noise to be perceived as music. This idea, of recontextualising existing material, was one that had already been done in the art world -- Marcel Duchamp, in 1917, had exhibited a urinal as a sculpture titled "Fountain" -- but even Duchamp had talked about his work as "everyday objects raised to the dignity of a work of art by the artist's act of choice". The artist was *raising* the object to art. What Cage was saying was "the object is already art". This was all massively influential to a young painter who had seen Cage give lectures many times, and while at art school had with friends prepared a piano in the same way Cage did for his own experimental compositions, dampening the strings with different objects. [Excerpt: Dana Gillespie, "Andy Warhol (live)"] Duchamp and Rauschenberg were both big influences on Andy Warhol, but he would say in the early sixties "John Cage is really so responsible for so much that's going on," and would for the rest of his life cite Cage as one of the two or three prime influences of his career. Warhol is a difficult figure to discuss, because his work is very intellectual but he was not very articulate -- which is one reason I've led up to him by discussing Cage in such detail, because Cage was always eager to talk at great length about the theoretical basis of his work, while Warhol would say very few words about anything at all. Probably the person who knew him best was his business partner and collaborator Paul Morrissey, and Morrissey's descriptions of Warhol have shaped my own view of his life, but it's very worth noting that Morrissey is an extremely right-wing moralist who wishes to see a Catholic theocracy imposed to do away with the scourges of sexual immorality, drug use, hedonism, and liberalism, so his view of Warhol, a queer drug using progressive whose worldview seems to have been totally opposed to Morrissey's in every way, might be a little distorted. Warhol came from an impoverished background, and so, as many people who grew up poor do, he was, throughout his life, very eager to make money. He studied art at university, and got decent but not exceptional grades -- he was a competent draughtsman, but not a great one, and most importantly as far as success in the art world goes he didn't have what is known as his own "line" -- with most successful artists, you can look at a handful of lines they've drawn and see something of their own personality in it. You couldn't with Warhol. His drawings looked like mediocre imitations of other people's work. Perfectly competent, but nothing that stood out. So Warhol came up with a technique to make his drawings stand out -- blotting. He would do a normal drawing, then go over it with a lot of wet ink. He'd lower a piece of paper on to the wet drawing, and the new paper would soak up the ink, and that second piece of paper would become the finished work. The lines would be fractured and smeared, broken in places where the ink didn't get picked up, and thick in others where it had pooled. With this mechanical process, Warhol had managed to create an individual style, and he became an extremely successful commercial artist. In the early 1950s photography was still seen as a somewhat low-class way of advertising things. If you wanted to sell to a rich audience, you needed to use drawings or paintings. By 1955 Warhol was making about twelve thousand dollars a year -- somewhere close to a hundred and thirty thousand a year in today's money -- drawing shoes for advertisements. He also had a sideline in doing record covers for people like Count Basie: [Excerpt: Count Basie, "Seventh Avenue Express"] For most of the 1950s he also tried to put on shows of his more serious artistic work -- often with homoerotic themes -- but to little success. The dominant art style of the time was the abstract expressionism of people like Jackson Pollock, whose art was visceral, emotional, and macho. The term "action paintings" which was coined for the work of people like Pollock, sums it up. This was manly art for manly men having manly emotions and expressing them loudly. It was very male and very straight, and even the gay artists who were prominent at the time tended to be very conformist and look down on anything they considered flamboyant or effeminate. Warhol was a rather effeminate, very reserved man, who strongly disliked showing his emotions, and whose tastes ran firmly to the camp. Camp as an aesthetic of finding joy in the flamboyant or trashy, as opposed to merely a descriptive term for men who behaved in a way considered effeminate, was only just starting to be codified at this time -- it wouldn't really become a fully-formed recognisable thing until Susan Sontag's essay "Notes on Camp" in 1964 -- but of course just because something hasn't been recognised doesn't mean it doesn't exist, and Warhol's aesthetic was always very camp, and in the 1950s in the US that was frowned upon even in gay culture, where the mainstream opinion was that the best way to acceptance was through assimilation. Abstract expressionism was all about expressing the self, and that was something Warhol never wanted to do -- in fact he made some pronouncements at times which suggested he didn't think of himself as *having* a self in the conventional sense. The combination of not wanting to express himself and of wanting to work more efficiently as a commercial artist led to some interesting results. For example, he was commissioned in 1957 to do a cover for an album by Moondog, the blind street musician whose name Alan Freed had once stolen: [Excerpt: Moondog, "Gloving It"] For that cover, Warhol got his mother, Julia Warhola, to just write out the liner notes for the album in her rather ornamental cursive script, and that became the front cover, leading to an award for graphic design going that year to "Andy Warhol's mother". (Incidentally, my copy of the current CD issue of that album, complete with Julia Warhola's cover, is put out by Pickwick Records...) But towards the end of the fifties, the work for commercial artists started to dry up. If you wanted to advertise shoes, now, you just took a photo of the shoes rather than get Andy Warhol to draw a picture of them. The money started to disappear, and Warhol started to panic. If there was no room for him in graphic design any more, he had to make his living in the fine arts, which he'd been totally unsuccessful in. But luckily for Warhol, there was a new movement that was starting to form -- Pop Art. Pop Art started in England, and had originally been intended, at least in part, as a critique of American consumerist capitalism. Pieces like "Just what is it that makes today's homes so different, so appealing?" by Richard Hamilton (who went on to design the Beatles' White Album cover) are collages of found images, almost all from American sources, recontextualised and juxtaposed in interesting ways, so a bodybuilder poses in a room that's taken from an advert in Ladies' Home Journal, while on the wall, instead of a painting, hangs a blown-up cover of a Jack Kirby romance comic. Pop Art changed slightly when it got taken up in America, and there it became something rather different, something closer to Duchamp, taking those found images and displaying them as art with no juxtaposition. Where Richard Hamilton created collage art which *showed* a comic cover by Jack Kirby as a painting in the background, Roy Lichtenstein would take a panel of comic art by Kirby, or Russ Heath or Irv Novick or a dozen other comic artists, and redraw it at the size of a normal painting. So Warhol took Cage's idea that the object is already art, and brought that into painting, starting by doing paintings of Campbell's soup cans, in which he tried as far as possible to make the cans look exactly like actual soup cans. The paintings were controversial, inciting fury in some and laughter in others and causing almost everyone to question whether they were art. Warhol would embrace an aesthetic in which things considered unimportant or trash or pop culture detritus were the greatest art of all. For example pretty much every profile of him written in the mid sixties talks about him obsessively playing "Sally Go Round the Roses", a girl-group single by the one-hit wonders the Jaynettes: [Excerpt: The Jaynettes, "Sally Go Round the Roses"] After his paintings of Campbell's soup cans, and some rather controversial but less commercially successful paintings of photographs of horrors and catastrophes taken from newspapers, Warhol abandoned painting in the conventional sense altogether, instead creating brightly coloured screen prints -- a form of stencilling -- based on photographs of celebrities like Elvis Presley, Elizabeth Taylor and, most famously, Marilyn Monroe. That way he could produce images which could be mass-produced, without his active involvement, and which supposedly had none of his personality in them, though of course his personality pervades the work anyway. He put on exhibitions of wooden boxes, silk-screen printed to look exactly like shipping cartons of Brillo pads. Images we see everywhere -- in newspapers, in supermarkets -- were art. And Warhol even briefly formed a band. The Druds were a garage band formed to play at a show at the Washington Gallery of Modern Art, the opening night of an exhibition that featured a silkscreen by Warhol of 210 identical bottles of Coca-Cola, as well as paintings by Rauschenberg and others. That opening night featured a happening by Claes Oldenburg, and a performance by Cage -- Cage gave a live lecture while three recordings of his own voice also played. The Druds were also meant to perform, but they fell apart after only a few rehearsals. Some recordings apparently exist, but they don't seem to circulate, but they'd be fascinating to hear as almost the entire band were non-musician artists like Warhol, Jasper Johns, and the sculptor Walter de Maria. Warhol said of the group “It didn't go too well, but if we had just stayed on it it would have been great.” On the other hand, the one actual musician in the group said “It was kind of ridiculous, so I quit after the second rehearsal". That musician was La Monte Young: [Excerpt: La Monte Young, "The Well-Tuned Piano"] That's an excerpt from what is generally considered Young's masterwork, "The Well-Tuned Piano". It's six and a half hours long. If Warhol is a difficult figure to write about, Young is almost impossible. He's a musician with a career stretching sixty years, who is arguably the most influential musician from the classical tradition in that time period. He's generally considered the father of minimalism, and he's also been called by Brian Eno "the daddy of us all" -- without Young you simply *do not* get art rock at all. Without Young there is no Velvet Underground, no David Bowie, no Eno, no New York punk scene, no Yoko Ono. Anywhere that the fine arts or conceptual art have intersected with popular music in the last fifty or more years has been influenced in one way or another by Young's work. BUT... he only rarely publishes his scores. He very, very rarely allows recordings of his work to be released -- there are four recordings on his bandcamp, plus a handful of recordings of his older, published, pieces, and very little else. He doesn't allow his music to be performed live without his supervision. There *are* bootleg recordings of his music, but even those are not easily obtainable -- Young is vigorous in enforcing his copyrights and issues takedown notices against anywhere that hosts them. So other than that handful of legitimately available recordings -- plus a recording by Young's Theater of Eternal Music, the legality of which is still disputed, and an off-air recording of a 1971 radio programme I've managed to track down, the only way to experience Young's music unless you're willing to travel to one of his rare live performances or installations is second-hand, by reading about it. Except that the one book that deals solely with Young and his music is not only a dense and difficult book to read, it's also one that Young vehemently disagreed with and considered extremely inaccurate, to the point he refused to allow permissions to quote his work in the book. Young did apparently prepare a list of corrections for the book, but he wouldn't tell the author what they were without payment. So please assume that anything I say about Young is wrong, but also accept that the short section of this episode about Young has required more work to *try* to get it right than pretty much anything else this year. Young's musical career actually started out in a relatively straightforward manner. He didn't grow up in the most loving of homes -- he's talked about his father beating him as a child because he had been told that young La Monte was clever -- but his father did buy him a saxophone and teach him the rudiments of the instrument, and as a child he was most influenced by the music of the big band saxophone player Jimmy Dorsey: [Excerpt: Jimmy Dorsey, “It's the Dreamer in Me”] The family, who were Mormon farmers, relocated several times in Young's childhood, from Idaho first to California and then to Utah, but everywhere they went La Monte seemed to find musical inspiration, whether from an uncle who had been part of the Kansas City jazz scene, a classmate who was a musical prodigy who had played with Perez Prado in his early teens, or a teacher who took the class to see a performance of Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra: [Excerpt: Bartok, "Concerto for Orchestra"] After leaving high school, Young went to Los Angeles City College to study music under Leonard Stein, who had been Schoenberg's assistant when Schoenberg had taught at UCLA, and there he became part of the thriving jazz scene based around Central Avenue, studying and performing with musicians like Ornette Coleman, Don Cherry, and Eric Dolphy -- Young once beat Dolphy in an audition for a place in the City College dance band, and the two would apparently substitute for each other on their regular gigs when one couldn't make it. During this time, Young's musical tastes became much more adventurous. He was a particular fan of the work of John Coltrane, and also got inspired by City of Glass, an album by Stan Kenton that attempted to combine jazz and modern classical music: [Excerpt: Stan Kenton's Innovations Orchestra, "City of Glass: The Structures"] His other major musical discovery in the mid-fifties was one we've talked about on several previous occasions -- the album Music of India, Morning and Evening Ragas by Ali Akhbar Khan: [Excerpt: Ali Akhbar Khan, "Rag Sindhi Bhairavi"] Young's music at this point was becoming increasingly modal, and equally influenced by the blues and Indian music. But he was also becoming interested in serialism. Serialism is an extension and generalisation of twelve-tone music, inspired by mathematical set theory. In serialism, you choose a set of musical elements -- in twelve-tone music that's the twelve notes in the twelve-tone scale, but it can also be a set of tonal relations, a chord, or any other set of elements. You then define all the possible ways you can permute those elements, a defined set of operations you can perform on them -- so you could play a scale forwards, play it backwards, play all the notes in the scale simultaneously, and so on. You then go through all the possible permutations, exactly once, and that's your piece of music. Young was particularly influenced by the works of Anton Webern, one of the earliest serialists: [Excerpt: Anton Webern, "Cantata number 1 for Soprano, Mixed Chorus, and Orchestra"] That piece we just heard, Webern's "Cantata number 1", was the subject of some of the earliest theoretical discussion of serialism, and in particular led to some discussion of the next step on from serialism. If serialism was all about going through every single permutation of a set, what if you *didn't* permute every element? There was a lot of discussion in the late fifties in music-theoretical circles about the idea of invariance. Normally in music, the interesting thing is what gets changed. To use a very simple example, you might change a melody from a major key to a minor one to make it sound sadder. What theorists at this point were starting to discuss is what happens if you leave something the same, but change the surrounding context, so the thing you *don't* vary sounds different because of the changed context. And going further, what if you don't change the context at all, and merely *imply* a changed context? These ideas were some of those which inspired Young's first major work, his Trio For Strings from 1958, a complex, palindromic, serial piece which is now credited as the first work of minimalism, because the notes in it change so infrequently: [Excerpt: La Monte Young, "Trio for Strings"] Though I should point out that Young never considers his works truly finished, and constantly rewrites them, and what we just heard is an excerpt from the only recording of the trio ever officially released, which is of the 2015 version. So I can't state for certain how close what we just heard is to the piece he wrote in 1958, except that it sounds very like the written descriptions of it I've read. After writing the Trio For Strings, Young moved to Germany to study with the modernist composer Karlheinz Stockhausen. While studying with Stockhausen, he became interested in the work of John Cage, and started up a correspondence with Cage. On his return to New York he studied with Cage and started writing pieces inspired by Cage, of which the most musical is probably Composition 1960 #7: [Excerpt: La Monte Young, "Composition 1960 #7"] The score for that piece is a stave on which is drawn a treble clef, the notes B and F#, and the words "To be held for a long Time". Other of his compositions from 1960 -- which are among the few of his compositions which have been published -- include composition 1960 #10 ("To Bob Morris"), the score for which is just the instruction "Draw a straight line and follow it.", and Piano Piece for David  Tudor #1, the score for which reads "Bring a bale of hay and a bucket of water onto the stage for the piano to eat and drink. The performer may then feed the piano or leave it to eat by itself. If the former, the piece is over after the piano has been fed. If the latter, it is over after the piano eats or decides not to". Most of these compositions were performed as part of a loose New York art collective called Fluxus, all of whom were influenced by Cage and the Dadaists. This collective, led by George Maciunas, sometimes involved Cage himself, but also involved people like Henry Flynt, the inventor of conceptual art, who later became a campaigner against art itself, and who also much to Young's bemusement abandoned abstract music in the mid-sixties to form a garage band with Walter de Maria (who had played drums with the Druds): [Excerpt: Henry Flynt and the Insurrections, "I Don't Wanna"] Much of Young's work was performed at Fluxus concerts given in a New York loft belonging to another member of the collective, Yoko Ono, who co-curated the concerts with Young. One of Ono's mid-sixties pieces, her "Four Pieces for Orchestra" is dedicated to Young, and consists of such instructions as "Count all the stars of that night by heart. The piece ends when all the orchestra members finish counting the stars, or when it dawns. This can be done with windows instead of stars." But while these conceptual ideas remained a huge part of Young's thinking, he soon became interested in two other ideas. The first was the idea of just intonation -- tuning instruments and voices to perfect harmonics, rather than using the subtly-off tuning that is used in Western music. I'm sure I've explained that before in a previous episode, but to put it simply when you're tuning an instrument with fixed pitches like a piano, you have a choice -- you can either tune it so that the notes in one key are perfectly in tune with each other, but then when you change key things go very out of tune, or you can choose to make *everything* a tiny bit, almost unnoticeably, out of tune, but equally so. For the last several hundred years, musicians as a community have chosen the latter course, which was among other things promoted by Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier, a collection of compositions which shows how the different keys work together: [Excerpt: Bach (Glenn Gould), "The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II: Fugue in F-sharp minor, BWV 883"] Young, by contrast, has his own esoteric tuning system, which he uses in his own work The Well-Tuned Piano: [Excerpt: La Monte Young, "The Well-Tuned Piano"] The other idea that Young took on was from Indian music, the idea of the drone. One of the four recordings of Young's music that is available from his Bandcamp, a 1982 recording titled The Tamburas of Pandit Pran Nath, consists of one hour, thirteen minutes, and fifty-eight seconds of this: [Excerpt: La Monte Young, "The Tamburas of Pandit Pran Nath"] Yes, I have listened to the whole piece. No, nothing else happens. The minimalist composer Terry Riley describes the recording as "a singularly rare contribution that far outshines any other attempts to capture this instrument in recorded media". In 1962, Young started writing pieces based on what he called the "dream chord", a chord consisting of a root, fourth, sharpened fourth, and fifth: [dream chord] That chord had already appeared in his Trio for Strings, but now it would become the focus of much of his work, in pieces like his 1962 piece The Second Dream of the High-Tension Line Stepdown Transformer, heard here in a 1982 revision: [Excerpt: La Monte Young, "The Second Dream of the High-Tension Line Stepdown Transformer"] That was part of a series of works titled The Four Dreams of China, and Young began to plan an installation work titled Dream House, which would eventually be created, and which currently exists in Tribeca, New York, where it's been in continuous "performance" for thirty years -- and which consists of thirty-two different pure sine wave tones all played continuously, plus purple lighting by Young's wife Marian Zazeela. But as an initial step towards creating this, Young formed a collective called Theatre of Eternal Music, which some of the members -- though never Young himself -- always claim also went by the alternative name The Dream Syndicate. According to John Cale, a member of the group, that name came about because the group tuned their instruments to the 60hz hum of the fridge in Young's apartment, which Cale called "the key of Western civilisation". According to Cale, that meant the fundamental of the chords they played was 10hz, the frequency of alpha waves when dreaming -- hence the name. The group initially consisted of Young, Zazeela, the photographer Billy Name, and percussionist Angus MacLise, but by this recording in 1964 the lineup was Young, Zazeela, MacLise, Tony Conrad and John Cale: [Excerpt: "Cale, Conrad, Maclise, Young, Zazeela - The Dream Syndicate 2 IV 64-4"] That recording, like any others that have leaked by the 1960s version of the Theatre of Eternal Music or Dream Syndicate, is of disputed legality, because Young and Zazeela claim to this day that what the group performed were La Monte Young's compositions, while the other two surviving members, Cale and Conrad, claim that their performances were improvisational collaborations and should be equally credited to all the members, and so there have been lawsuits and countersuits any time anyone has released the recordings. John Cale, the youngest member of the group, was also the only one who wasn't American. He'd been born in Wales in 1942, and had had the kind of childhood that, in retrospect, seems guaranteed to lead to eccentricity. He was the product of a mixed-language marriage -- his father, William, was an English speaker while his mother, Margaret, spoke Welsh, but the couple had moved in on their marriage with Margaret's mother, who insisted that only Welsh could be spoken in her house. William didn't speak Welsh, and while he eventually picked up the basics from spending all his life surrounded by Welsh-speakers, he refused on principle to capitulate to his mother-in-law, and so remained silent in the house. John, meanwhile, grew up a monolingual Welsh speaker, and didn't start to learn English until he went to school when he was seven, and so couldn't speak to his father until then even though they lived together. Young John was extremely unwell for most of his childhood, both physically -- he had bronchial problems for which he had to take a cough mixture that was largely opium to help him sleep at night -- and mentally. He was hospitalised when he was sixteen with what was at first thought to be meningitis, but turned out to be a psychosomatic condition, the result of what he has described as a nervous breakdown. That breakdown is probably connected to the fact that during his teenage years he was sexually assaulted by two adults in positions of authority -- a vicar and a music teacher -- and felt unable to talk to anyone about this. He was, though, a child prodigy and was playing viola with the National Youth Orchestra of Wales from the age of thirteen, and listening to music by Schoenberg, Webern, and Stravinsky. He was so talented a multi-instrumentalist that at school he was the only person other than one of the music teachers and the headmaster who was allowed to use the piano -- which led to a prank on his very last day at school. The headmaster would, on the last day, hit a low G on the piano to cue the assembly to stand up, and Cale had placed a comb on the string, muting it and stopping the note from sounding -- in much the same way that his near-namesake John Cage was "preparing" pianos for his own compositions in the USA. Cale went on to Goldsmith's College to study music and composition, under Humphrey Searle, one of Britain's greatest proponents of serialism who had himself studied under Webern. Cale's main instrument was the viola, but he insisted on also playing pieces written for the violin, because they required more technical skill. For his final exam he chose to play Hindemith's notoriously difficult Viola Sonata: [Excerpt: Hindemith Viola Sonata] While at Goldsmith's, Cale became friendly with Cornelius Cardew, a composer and cellist who had studied with Stockhausen and at the time was a great admirer of and advocate for the works of Cage and Young (though by the mid-seventies Cardew rejected their work as counter-revolutionary bourgeois imperialism). Through Cardew, Cale started to correspond with Cage, and with George Maciunas and other members of Fluxus. In July 1963, just after he'd finished his studies at Goldsmith's, Cale presented a festival there consisting of an afternoon and an evening show. These shows included the first British performances of several works including Cardew's Autumn '60 for Orchestra -- a piece in which the musicians were given blank staves on which to write whatever part they wanted to play, but a separate set of instructions in *how* to play the parts they'd written. Another piece Cale presented in its British premiere at that show was Cage's "Concerto for Piano and Orchestra": [Excerpt: John Cage, "Concerto for Piano and Orchestra"] In the evening show, they performed Two Pieces For String Quartet by George Brecht (in which the musicians polish their instruments with dusters, making scraping sounds as they clean them),  and two new pieces by Cale, one of which involved a plant being put on the stage, and then the performer, Robin Page, screaming from the balcony at the plant that it would die, then running down, through the audience, and onto the stage, screaming abuse and threats at the plant. The final piece in the show was a performance by Cale (the first one in Britain) of La Monte Young's "X For Henry Flynt". For this piece, Cale put his hands together and then smashed both his arms onto the keyboard as hard as he could, over and over. After five minutes some of the audience stormed the stage and tried to drag the piano away from him. Cale followed the piano on his knees, continuing to bang the keys, and eventually the audience gave up in defeat and Cale the performer won. After this Cale moved to the USA, to further study composition, this time with Iannis Xenakis, the modernist composer who had also taught Mickey Baker orchestration after Baker left Mickey and Sylvia, and who composed such works as "Orient Occident": [Excerpt: Iannis Xenakis, "Orient Occident"] Cale had been recommended to Xenakis as a student by Aaron Copland, who thought the young man was probably a genius. But Cale's musical ambitions were rather too great for Tanglewood, Massachusetts -- he discovered that the institute had eighty-eight pianos, the same number as there are keys on a piano keyboard, and thought it would be great if for a piece he could take all eighty-eight pianos, put them all on different boats, sail the boats out onto a lake, and have eighty-eight different musicians each play one note on each piano, while the boats sank with the pianos on board. For some reason, Cale wasn't allowed to perform this composition, and instead had to make do with one where he pulled an axe out of a single piano and slammed it down on a table. Hardly the same, I'm sure you'll agree. From Tanglewood, Cale moved on to New York, where he soon became part of the artistic circles surrounding John Cage and La Monte Young. It was at this time that he joined Young's Theatre of Eternal Music, and also took part in a performance with Cage that would get Cale his first television exposure: [Excerpt: John Cale playing Erik Satie's "Vexations" on "I've Got a Secret"] That's Cale playing through "Vexations", a piece by Erik Satie that wasn't published until after Satie's death, and that remained in obscurity until Cage popularised -- if that's the word -- the piece. The piece, which Cage had found while studying Satie's notes, seems to be written as an exercise and has the inscription (in French) "In order to play the motif 840 times in succession, it would be advisable to prepare oneself beforehand, and in the deepest silence, by serious immobilities." Cage interpreted that, possibly correctly, as an instruction that the piece should be played eight hundred and forty times straight through, and so he put together a performance of the piece, the first one ever, by a group he called the Pocket Theatre Piano Relay Team, which included Cage himself, Cale, Joshua Rifkin, and several other notable musical figures, who took it in turns playing the piece. For that performance, which ended up lasting eighteen hours, there was an entry fee of five dollars, and there was a time-clock in the lobby. Audience members punched in and punched out, and got a refund of five cents for every twenty minutes they'd spent listening to the music. Supposedly, at the end, one audience member yelled "Encore!" A week later, Cale appeared on "I've Got a Secret", a popular game-show in which celebrities tried to guess people's secrets (and which is where that performance of Cage's "Water Walk" we heard earlier comes from): [Excerpt: John Cale on I've Got a Secret] For a while, Cale lived with a friend of La Monte Young's, Terry Jennings, before moving in to a flat with Tony Conrad, one of the other members of the Theatre of Eternal Music. Angus MacLise lived in another flat in the same building. As there was not much money to be made in avant-garde music, Cale also worked in a bookshop -- a job Cage had found him -- and had a sideline in dealing drugs. But rents were so cheap at this time that Cale and Conrad only had to work part-time, and could spend much of their time working on the music they were making with Young. Both were string players -- Conrad violin, Cale viola -- and they soon modified their instruments. Conrad merely attached pickups to his so it could be amplified, but Cale went much further. He filed down the viola's bridge so he could play three strings at once, and he replaced the normal viola strings with thicker, heavier, guitar and mandolin strings. This created a sound so loud that it sounded like a distorted electric guitar -- though in late 1963 and early 1964 there were very few people who even knew what a distorted guitar sounded like. Cale and Conrad were also starting to become interested in rock and roll music, to which neither of them had previously paid much attention, because John Cage's music had taught them to listen for music in sounds they previously dismissed. In particular, Cale became fascinated with the harmonies of the Everly Brothers, hearing in them the same just intonation that Young advocated for: [Excerpt: The Everly Brothers, "All I Have to Do is Dream"] And it was with this newfound interest in rock and roll that Cale and Conrad suddenly found themselves members of a manufactured pop band. The two men had been invited to a party on the Lower East Side, and there they'd been introduced to Terry Phillips of Pickwick Records. Phillips had seen their long hair and asked if they were musicians, so they'd answered "yes". He asked if they were in a band, and they said yes. He asked if that band had a drummer, and again they said yes. By this point they realised that he had assumed they were rock guitarists, rather than experimental avant-garde string players, but they decided to play along and see where this was going. Phillips told them that if they brought along their drummer to Pickwick's studios the next day, he had a job for them. The two of them went along with Walter de Maria, who did play the drums a little in between his conceptual art work, and there they were played a record: [Excerpt: The Primitives, "The Ostrich"] It was explained to them that Pickwick made knock-off records -- soundalikes of big hits, and their own records in the style of those hits, all played by a bunch of session musicians and put out under different band names. This one, by "the Primitives", they thought had a shot at being an actual hit, even though it was a dance-craze song about a dance where one partner lays on the floor and the other stamps on their head. But if it was going to be a hit, they needed an actual band to go out and perform it, backing the singer. How would Cale, Conrad, and de Maria like to be three quarters of the Primitives? It sounded fun, but of course they weren't actually guitarists. But as it turned out, that wasn't going to be a problem. They were told that the guitars on the track had all been tuned to one note -- not even to an open chord, like we talked about Steve Cropper doing last episode, but all the strings to one note. Cale and Conrad were astonished -- that was exactly the kind of thing they'd been doing in their drone experiments with La Monte Young. Who was this person who was independently inventing the most advanced ideas in experimental music but applying them to pop songs? And that was how they met Lou Reed: [Excerpt: The Primitives, "The Ostrich"] Where Cale and Conrad were avant-gardeists who had only just started paying attention to rock and roll music, rock and roll was in Lou Reed's blood, but there were a few striking similarities between him and Cale, even though at a glance their backgrounds could not have seemed more different. Reed had been brought up in a comfortably middle-class home in Long Island, but despised the suburban conformity that surrounded him from a very early age, and by his teens was starting to rebel against it very strongly. According to one classmate “Lou was always more advanced than the rest of us. The drinking age was eighteen back then, so we all started drinking at around sixteen. We were drinking quarts of beer, but Lou was smoking joints. He didn't do that in front of many people, but I knew he was doing it. While we were looking at girls in Playboy, Lou was reading Story of O. He was reading the Marquis de Sade, stuff that I wouldn't even have thought about or known how to find.” But one way in which Reed was a typical teenager of the period was his love for rock and roll, especially doo-wop. He'd got himself a guitar, but only had one lesson -- according to the story he would tell on numerous occasions, he turned up with a copy of "Blue Suede Shoes" and told the teacher he only wanted to know how to play the chords for that, and he'd work out the rest himself. Reed and two schoolfriends, Alan Walters and Phil Harris, put together a doo-wop trio they called The Shades, because they wore sunglasses, and a neighbour introduced them to Bob Shad, who had been an A&R man for Mercury Records and was starting his own new label. He renamed them the Jades and took them into the studio with some of the best New York session players, and at fourteen years old Lou Reed was writing songs and singing them backed by Mickey Baker and King Curtis: [Excerpt: The Jades, "Leave Her For Me"] Sadly the Jades' single was a flop -- the closest it came to success was being played on Murray the K's radio show, but on a day when Murray the K was off ill and someone else was filling in for him, much to Reed's disappointment. Phil Harris, the lead singer of the group, got to record some solo sessions after that, but the Jades split up and it would be several years before Reed made any more records. Partly this was because of Reed's mental health, and here's where things get disputed and rather messy. What we know is that in his late teens, just after he'd gone off to New

•Biografie• Zarah Leander ist ein schwedisches Revue-Girl und ganz und gar nicht der Typ des blonden deutschen Frauchens als sie über Wien nach Berlin kommt. Dort unterschreibt sie 1936 einen Vertrag beim Film. So beginnt ihre ungewöhnliche Karriere in Nazi-Deutschland. // Von Peter Steinbach / Komposition: Henrik Albrecht / Regie: Claudia Johanna Leist / WDR 2007 // www.wdr.de/k/hoerspiel-newsletter Von Peter Steinbach.

Den sista stora divan som sköt blixtar från scen men som lånade sin beslöjade stämma till Hitlers Tyskland. Ett val som för alltid brännmärkte henne som nazistisk medlöpare. Redaktionen för detta avsnitt består av:Cecilia Düringer programledare och manusMårten Andersson manusErik Laquist producentZardasht Rad scenuppläsarePeter Jonason ljuddesign och slutmixMedverkar gör också Beata Arnborg, journalist och författareVill du veta mer om Zarah Leander? Här är några av de böcker som ligger till grund för avsnittet:Se på mig! En biografi över Zarah Leander av Beata ArnborgZarah Leander En stjärnas liv av Jutta JacobiBögarnas Zarah Diva, ikon, kult av Tiina RosenbergSanningen om Zarah Leander av Bosse SchönZarah! Zarah Leanders minnen av Zarah Leander/Jan GabrielssonHitlers lojala musiker Hur musiken blev ett vapen i Tredje rikets propaganda av Anders Carlberg

Die Pinakothek der Moderne in München wurde gerade 20 Jahre alt, zeigt die Sammlung als "Mix and Match", und darin erneut Nazikunst. Auch das Puppentheater wurde 1933 bis 1945 gezielt zur Volkserziehung und Propaganda missbraucht. Doch heute verfolgt es andere Absichten. Ein Blick in eine Nische des Kulturbetriebs."Zukunft Pink", "Alles wird gut" oder "Wer hat hier schlechte Laune?" - Die gerade erfolgreichsten Titel im Musikbetrieb folgen in einem möglicherweise sehr kriegerischen und kalten Winter dem Mutmachermodus einer Zarah Leander in der Nazitzeit ("Ich weiß, es wird einmal ein Wunder geschehen")

Der erfolgreichste Liedtexter während der NS-Zeit war schwul: Bruno Balz hat über 1000 Lieder geschrieben, darunter Evergreens wie "Kann den Liebe Sünde sein" - in der Nazizeit war sein Leben wegen seiner Homosexualität dennoch bedroht. Retten konnte sich Bruno Balz vielleicht nur, weil seine genialen Lieder für die Nazis unentbehrlich waren... Autorin: Christiane Kopka Von Christiane Kopka.

Als "Crazy Otto" wurde der Pianist und Komponist Fritz Schulz-Reichel weltberühmt. Er spielte unter anderem mit Zarah Leander und dem Berliner Tanzorchester von James Kok.

Nämen halli hallonbåt, kära lyssnare!Ännu en torsdag är kommen och Ytspänning bjuder er på ögonbrynets historia! Häng med på Dr. Kaspersens resa genom årtiondena, där brynet bytt form och skepnad från buskiga och tjocka till smala och skarpa, för att sedan leta sig vidare mot nya ideal. Hör oss också avhandla en mytomspunnen relation, den mellan heterokvinnor och bögar. Exemplen är många på homosexuella män som har det där lilla extra starka bandet till sina mödrar och till "sina" faghags. Liksom det finns flera exempel på ikoniska kvinnor -som Greta Garbo, Marlene Dietrich och Zarah Leander- vilka på många sätt behållt sin ställning tack vare bögarnas aldrig sinande kärlek. Vad är det med detta fenomen egentligen?Varmt välkomna in i den varma och mysiga bubbla vi kallar Ytspänning!XOXO/ Aleksa och Kristian See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Zarah Leander war die Diva des nationalsozialistischen Films. Mit ihrem sehnsüchtigen Blick, den sie vor allem einer extremen Kurzsichtigkeit verdankte, und ihrer tiefen, betörenden Stimme wurde sie schnell zum Idol der Deutschen.

Zarah Leander war die Diva des nationalsozialistischen Films. Weil Greta Garbo und Marlene Dietrich jede Zusammenarbeit ablehnten, versuchte der Filmkonzern "Ufa", einen eigenen Glamour-Star aufzubauen. Die Schwedin mit dem sehnsuchtsvollen Blick (den sie ihrer extremen Kurzsichtigkeit verdankte) kam da gerade recht. Autorin: Christiane Kopka Von Christiane Kopka.

Daniel Kaiser spricht mit dem Schauspieler über seine ersten Schritte auf die Bühne und seine Rollen, zum Beispiel als Zarah Leander.

Bruno Balz, Textdichter. Kaum jemand kennt ihn, jeder kennt seine Lieder. Über 1000 Texte hat er geschrieben. Gesungen wurden sie von allen Größen der jeweiligen Zeit. Zarah Leander, Heinz Rühmann, Peter Alexander, Heintje, um nur einige zu nennen. Bruno Balz war schwul und deshalb auch vom Nazi-Regime verfolgt und eingesperrt. Gerade die Texte seiner größten Erfolge hat er in Zeiten höchster persönlicher Not geschrieben. Eine unfassbare Geschichte, erzählt von Johannes Albendorf im Roman >Berliner Sehnsucht

Den ene dag render du sorgløs rundt på en græsmark på bare tæer. Den næste, undrer du dig over, hvor al den tid du troede du havde, er blevet af. Kaae & Batz, Beethoven, Zarah Leander, Mohammed Rafi, Glenn Gould med flere leder dig sikkert gennem livets faser. Produceret for DR af Munck Studios København.

Den ene dag render du sorgløs rundt på en græsmark på bare tæer. Den næste, undrer du dig over, hvor al den tid du troede du havde, er blevet af. Kaae & Batz, Beethoven, Zarah Leander, Mohammed Rafi, Glenn Gould med flere leder dig sikkert gennem livets faser. Produceret for DR af Munck Studios København.

Om et af de møder, der ikke altid går som planlagt. En kvinde tager til Köln for at opsøge en gammel flirt i håbet om at slippe af med et knust hjerte efter en dramatisk, og intens kærlighedsrelation. Men nissen flytter altid med, og hun vælger at blive og se den i øjnene. Hør, hvordan det går. Musikken afspejler naturligvis hele hurlumhejet med både Swingle Singers, Zarah Leander, Nico Muhly, og selv requiem af Mozart slår vejen forbi når håbet brister. Produceret for DR af Munck Studios København.

Om et af de møder, der ikke altid går som planlagt. En kvinde tager til Köln for at opsøge en gammel flirt i håbet om at slippe af med et knust hjerte efter en dramatisk, og intens kærlighedsrelation. Men nissen flytter altid med, og hun vælger at blive og se den i øjnene. Hør, hvordan det går. Musikken afspejler naturligvis hele hurlumhejet med både Swingle Singers, Zarah Leander, Nico Muhly, og selv requiem af Mozart slår vejen forbi når håbet brister. Produceret for DR af Munck Studios København.

„Es gibt eine Liebe, die ist gar nicht Liebe zu einer Person oder zu einem Gegenstand, sondern wirklich die Liebe zur Liebe selbst. Und mit der kann man machen, was man will. Das ist grauenvoll, denn am Ende ist das Objekt dieser Liebe vielleicht ein Monstrum wie Hitler." (Denis de Rougement) Eines steht fest: Liebe gibt es in allen Zeiten. Doch zur Zeit des Dritten Reiches hatten es Liebende alles andere als leicht. Wir beschäftigen uns in dieser Podcastfolge mit durch Gesetz oder Ideologie verbotenen Liebesgeschichten. Von Lillian Crott und Martin Hamann über Bruno Balz bis hin zur nationalsozialistischen Idealliebe. Das Paradebeispiel für die Liebesideale der (half-naked) Nazis ist der Propagandafilm Die Große Liebe mit Zarah Leander, der Diva des Dritten Reiches. Doch so sehr die Nazis auch dagegen propagierten, Liebe war schon zu allen Zeiten bunt und fand immer einen Weg. Verwendete Quellen: Süddeutsche Zeitung - Thomas Hahn: https://www.sueddeutsche.de/leben/liebesgeschichte-es-begann-vor-84-jahren-1.2880241 Deutschlandfunk - Katrin Heise: https://www.deutschlandfunkkultur.de/liebesgeschichten-im-schatten-der-vergangenheit.954.de.html?dram:article_id=143697 TAZ „Sitzen machen“: https://taz.de/!1237423/

Säsongsfinal! Snedtänktinstitutionen David Nessle gästar för tolfte gången. Ämnet är musikalöversättaren, kriminalförfattaren, manusförfattaren, violinisten, biograf- och restaurangmusikern, rimsmeden, kåsören och kritikern Gösta Rybrant, stundom kallad Flips. Torsten Kreuger! Åke Ohlmarks! Åke Ohberg! Zarah Leander! Per Gessle!

Säsongsfinal! Snedtänktinstitutionen David Nessle gästar för tolfte gången. Ämnet är musikalöversättaren, kriminalförfattaren, manusförfattaren, violinisten, biograf- och restaurangmusikern, rimsmeden, kåsören och kritikern Gösta Rybrant, stundom kallad Flips. Torsten Kreuger! Åke Ohlmarks! Åke Ohberg! Zarah Leander! Per Gessle!

Nein, Tobias Faix und Thorsten Dietz werden nicht zusammen das bekannte Lied von Zarah Leander singen. Vielmehr versuchen sie, die Bedeutung des großen Begriffs der Liebe als Maßstab für ethische Entscheidungen zu fassen, auch für den Umgang mit dem, was man als Liebesleben bezeichnet.

Redifusión de la emisión de Fabuloseando!! n.º 24 (29/05/2005) Bueno, quedan ya pocas emisiones para despedirme hasta una nueva etapa, y me gustaría ir agradeciendo a todos los que en estos meses me habéis escuchado y acompañado; a los que lo hicieron desde el principio y a los nuevos incorporados. Porque Fabuloseando!! no habría sido lo mismo sin vuestra ayuda, sin la ayuda de mis oyentes, de mis amigos. Así que hoy toca hablar de los amigos y de la amistad. Porque os lo debo de alguna forma. Sé que decir que sois todos mis amigos puedes ser un poco exagerado, pero la verdad es que os siento muy muy cerca, y no puedo evitar quereros un poquito. Marilyn Monroe. Some like it hot. Sérgio Mendes & Brasil 66. With a little help from my friends. U.m.a. To my friends. Pavement. Best friend’s arm. Lucio Battisti. Una donna per amico. The Dandy Warhols. We used to be friends. The Doors. A feast of friends. The Doors. Hyacinth house. Radio Futura. El amigo desconocido. Corcobado. Digan lo que digan. Las historias fabulosas de la niña Nitriska. Osvaldo Pugliase. A mis amigos. (background) The Proclaimers. My old friend the blues. Le Tigre. Friendship Station. Chavela Vargas. Juan Charrasqueado. Roberto Carlos. Un millón de amigos. Phil Ochs. Outside of a small circle of friend. The Kinks. See my friends. Zarah Leander. Merci, mon ami. Belle & Sebastian. Storytelling. Os recuerdo la fabulosa despedida!!!! Abraços e beijinhos e carinhos sem ter fim…

Autor: Groth, Michael Sendung: Aus den Archiven Hören bis: 19.01.2038 04:14

Autor: Groth, Michael Sendung: Aus den Archiven Hören bis: 19.01.2038 04:14

Ob man sie liebt oder hasst: Musicals sind besonders aus dem queeren Kulturkanon nicht wegzudenken. Dass das nicht immer blöd und platt sein muss, beweisen die 6 Musicals, bzw die darauf basierenden Verfilmungen, die wir heute für euch rausgesucht haben. Von dicken Muskeln bei "Fame", über Meisterwerke wie "Cabaret", die nach wie vor nicht an Brisanz verloren haben zu Zarah Leander, der eine ganze Horde Wehrmachtssoldaten in Drag an die Seite gestellt wurde... Ihr seht: macht Spaß!

Denna gång gästar oss serietecknaren och illustratören Olivia Skoglund och vi pratar om hennes bok Nästan i mål!, som är är en unik skildring av en pågående könstransition berättad med lätthet, svart humor och cartooniga teckningar. Claes är radions egen melloreporter och han blev nog inte helt övertygad av det han fick presenterad på hemmaskärmen. Däremot rekommenderar han i Veckans guldkorn en spännande dokumentär om Zarah Leander. Musik i programmet: Rissajávri - Sofia Jannok, Familjen, Anders Tilliander Prince Of The Universe - Queen Allting - Spader Kung Eloise – Arvingarna Sång om syrsor - Zarah Leander Shit va stark – Sannah Sae Apart - Kaspar Björke

I slutet av 30-talet sökte landets stora revyartist Zarah Leander lyckan i Europa. Hon blev den tyska propagandafilmens stora stjärna, men samarbetet med naziregimen kom nästan att kosta henne karriären. Det här är historien om Zarah Leander, en artist som gick sin egen väg. Som blev älskad av många miljoner människor, och sedan bespottad och utstött. Men det är också historien om en kvinna som aldrig gav sig, och som aldrig vek sig för maktens män. En P2 Dokumentär av Eva och Staffan Schöier från 2020.

Hösten är skördandets tid men också vissnandets. Intensiva färger före frosten. Katarina Wikars har samlat ihop några höstväsen och som sig bör på radio, röster som blivit kvar i minnet. Följ med till den frostnupna trädgården på Hildasholm i Leksand, möt  butohdansaren Frauke som blåser bärnstensfärgade moln i Kyoto, lär sjunga sorgekväden i höstskymningen med gråterskorna i Helsingfors och hör om de som går igen på Österbybruks herrgård. Andra röster är: Zarah Leander, Magnus Florin, Louise Glück, Kazuko Ono. Uppläsare av Werner Aspenströms dikt "Regnar gör det alltid" Josefin Iziamo och Peter Andersson och ur Malcolm Lowrys roman "Under vulkanen" Mikael Alsberg. Katarina Wikars Katarina.wikars@sverigesradio.se

I slutet av 30-talet sökte landets stora revyartist Zarah Leander lyckan i Europa. Hon blev den tyska propagandafilmens stora stjärna, men samarbetet med naziregimen kom nästan att kosta henne karriären. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Det här är historien om Zarah Leander, en artist som gick sin egen väg. Som blev älskad av många miljoner människor, och sedan bespottad och utstött. Men det är också historien om en kvinna som aldrig gav sig, och som aldrig vek sig för maktens män. En dokumentär av Eva och Staffan Schöier från 2020.

I slutet av 30-talet sökte landets stora revyartist Zarah Leander lyckan i Europa. Hon blev den tyska propagandafilmens stora stjärna, men samarbetet med naziregimen kom nästan att kosta henne karriären. Det här är historien om Zarah Leander, en artist som gick sin egen väg. Som blev älskad av många miljoner människor, och sedan bespottad och utstött. Men det är också historien om en kvinna som aldrig gav sig, och som aldrig vek sig för maktens män. En dokumentär av Eva och Staffan Schöier från 2020.

Hösten är skördandets tid men också vissnandets. Intensiva färger före frosten. Katarina Wikars har samlat ihop några höstväsen och som sig bör på radio, röster som blivit kvar i minnet. Följ med till den frostnupna trädgården på Hildasholm i Leksand, möt butohdansaren Frauke som blåser bärnstensfärgade moln i Kyoto, lär sjunga sorgekväden i höstskymningen med gråterskorna i Helsingfors och hör om de som går igen på Österbybruks herrgård. Andra röster är: Zarah Leander, Magnus Florin, Louise Glück, Kazuko Ono. Uppläsare av Werner Aspenströms dikt "Regnar gör det alltid" Josefin Iziamo och Peter Andersson och ur Malcolm Lowrys roman "Under vulkanen" Mikael Alsberg. Katarina Wikars Katarina.wikars@sverigesradio.se

Willi berichtet von seinem 20. Geburtstag und schwört Zarah Leander ab. Weitere Bilder und Infos via www.aalen.de/willi Feedback an georg.wendt@aalen.de. ©Stadtarchiv Aalen 2020

The Oxford English Dictionary defines “glamour” as “magic; enchantment; spell” and “a magical or fictitious beauty attaching to any person or object; a delusive or alluring charm.” Further down in the entry are “charm; attractiveness; physical allure,” certainly the definition we most closely associate with the term. And yet, it’s fascinating to examine the concept of glamour from its spellbinding origins. In the first of my episodes on Glamour, I examine many singers both from the spell-binding sense of the term and the sense of vocal and personal allure. Among others, I examine such varied singers as Alice Faye, Eleanor Steber, Annie Lennox, Carol Neblett, Betty Carter, Diahann Carroll, Teresa Żylis-Gara, Liane Augustin, Dorothy Kirsten, Florence Quartararo, Hana Janků, Helen Traubel, Hilde Güden, Kiri Te Kanawa, Leontyne Price, Lisa Kirk, Lotte Lehmann, Anna Moffo, Maria Nemeth, Montserrat Caballé, Rosa Ponselle, Zarah Leander, and The Incomparable Hildegarde with an eye to what makes their work glamourous in all senses of the term. And the gentlemen are by no means excluded: I spend particular time on the seductive and dulcet tenor tones of Fritz Wunderlich, José Carreras, Karl Friedrich, and Miguel Fleta. Countermelody is a podcast devoted to the glories of the human voice raised in song. Singer and vocal aficionado Daniel Gundlach explores great classical and opera singers of the past and present with the help of guests from the classical music field: singers, conductors, composers, coaches, agents, and voice teachers. Daniel’s lifetime in music as a professional countertenor, pianist, vocal coach, voice teacher, and journalist yields an exciting array of anecdotes, impressions, and “inside stories.” At Countermelody’s core is the interaction between singers of all stripes, their instruments, and the connection they make to the words they sing. Please visit the Countermelody website (www.countermelodypodcast.com) for additional content. And please head to our Patreon page at www.patreon.com/countermelody to pledge your monthly support at whatever level you can afford.

Duitsland, nu 75 jaar geleden. Adolf Hitler pleegt zelfmoord in de Führerbunker in Berlijn. Zijn Duizendjarig Rijk is na 12 jaar volledig verwoest. Steden liggen in puin, meer dan 15 miljoen Duitsers op de vlucht. Miljoenen van hen overleven de Nazi-heerschappij niet.In deze aflevering van Betrouwbare Bronnen kijkt Jaap Jansen met PG Kroeger naar die tijd en vooral naar het dagelijks leven: de beslommeringen, illusies, zorgen en angsten van mensen in het Duitsland van Hitlers heerschappij. Voor velen van hen was de geallieerde overwinning een bevrijding en vaak zelfs een redding op het allerlaatste moment. Veel mensen beleefden de ondergang van het Nazi-bewind als een nog grotere nederlaag dan de val van Kaiser Wilhelm II en zijn Pruisische heerschappij nog maar kort daarvoor.We weten verrassend veel over het gewone leven in die tijd dankzij mensen als Ursula von Kardorff en Victor Klemperer. Zij hielden dagboeken bij waarin ze in allerlei details en verslagen indringende indrukken geven van wat er gebeurde en wat hen persoonlijk overkwam. Vooral Klemperer schreef met 'Ich will Zeugnis ablegen bis zum Letzten' een tweedelig meesterwerk van historische betekenis.Zo komen in deze Betrouwbare Bronnen de momenten aan de orde waarop 'de gewone Duitser' begon te merken dat Hitlers 'Reich' begon in te storten. Wanneer was dat? Wat was bijvoorbeeld de impact van 'Operation Gommorah'? Maar ook merken we uit die dagboeken en analyses van historici verrassende inzichten, zoals het feit dat Nazi-Duitsland heel lang helemaal geen door en door georganiseerde oorlogseconomie kende, al jaren feitelijk bankroet was en het beleid gestuurd werd door zowel een moorddadige ideologie als door 'focusgroepen' en 'opiniepeilingen' avant la lettre.De dagboeken vertellen ons ook over de stiekeme humor van burgers, de ongelooflijke moed van Eva Klemperer, het morele baken voor heel Duitsland dat Clemens August Graf von Galen werd, de Schlagerfilms en de hits van Zarah Leander en het feit dat zeer velen het wel degelijk en vaak al heel vroeg 'gewusst haben'. Bijvoorbeeld de dappere jurist Friedrich Klenner in een provinciestadje in het rurale midden van Hessen.In de nederlaag van Nazi-Duitsland zijn de verhalen en belevenissen hartverscheurend. De obsessie van het bewind met 'heldendood' en een heidens soort ondergangslust maakten dat allemaal nog gruwelijker. Het verhaal van de wonderbaarlijke redding van Victor en Eva Klemperer tijdens de gruwelijke nacht van het bombardement op Dresden mag ons daarom ook nu nog hun levensmoed en trouw als inspiratie meegeven.***Deze aflevering is mede mogelijk gemaakt door Weee Nederland***Verder lezenUrsula von Kardorff - Berliner Aufzeichnungen 1942 bis 1945 (Taschen Verlag, 1998)Victor Klemperer – Barre bevrijding (Atlas Contact, 2020)Victor Klemperer – LTI, de taal van het Derde Rijk (Atlas Contact, 2020)Friedrich Klenner - 'Vernebelt, verdunkelt sind alle Hirne', Tagebücher 1939-1945 (Wallstein Verlag, 2011)***Verder luisterenAfl. 101- 75 jaar bevrijding: De laatste dagen van Franklin D. RooseveltAfl. 65 - 'Vroeger was alles beter', nostalgie als strategie en politiek wapen (de rede van Richard von Weiszäcker)***Tijdlijn00:00:00 – Intro00:06:38 – Deel 100:35:46 – Deel 201:12:39 – Deel 301:25:07 – Uitro01:25:57 – Einde

‘Ze krijgen mij niet’. Dat was het vaste voornemen van componist Hans Krieg. Met vrouw en twee dochters overleefde hij Westerbork, Bergen Belsen én ‘ Het verloren transport’. Hier zijn verhaal. Bronnen: Leo Smit Stichting; Carine Alders; In depot, Philip Mechanicus; Ondergang, J. Presser; Gemmeker, commandant van Westerbork, Ad van Liempt. Muziek: Lana Ross, Guitar variations to Hatikvah; Hans Krieg, De Chinese fluitspeler; Johnny en Jones, Westerborkserenade; Zarah Leander, Bei mir bisst du schön; Hans Krieg, Jiskor voor piano; Hans Krieg, A wie Noe; Hans Krieg, Jiskor voor koor, solisten en symfonieorkest; Hans Krieg, Poeme voor viool en piano. Het NPO Radio 4-programma De Ochtend van 4 eert vervolgde musici in 2020, het jaar waarin Nederland 75 jaar bevrijding viert.

Museer värnar vårt kollektiva minne, men arbetar också med att glömma bort. Hur glömskan fungerar reds nu ut i en aktuell bok. Dessutom om vad som händer med museerna när de ser besökare som kunder. Vad väljer museer att visa och berätta och vad väljs bort? De senaste åren har sydstatsgeneraler, Richard Wagner och Zarah Leander blivit ifrågasatta. Många museer har valt att rensa i sina samlingar, att repatriera och utrangera föremål som anses problematiska. Hur denna process går till undersöks nu av författaren Stefan Bohman, aktuell med boken Skelett i garderoben. Dessutom om vad som händer när museet ägnar större kraft åt sina caféer och museibutiker snarare än själva utställningarna. Och så reder Dick Harrison ut om Gustav Vasa egentligen var en landsfader eller tyrann. Programledare är Tobias Svanelid.

Am Sonntag bringen Casino Fatale, ein Duo mit der Pianistin Lana Goretzka und dem Sänger Sebastian Thon aus Leipzig ihr Album "Honig Intravenös" heraus. Darauf interpretieren sie Lieder von Zarah Leander, Marlene Dietrich, Rammstein und Chansonnier Tim Fischer neu. Und alles beginnt im Beethovenjahr natürlich mit Beethoven. Vor ihrem Konzert am 23.02. zum Album-Release in der Schaubühne Lindenfels in Leipzig haben wir mit ihnen über Passion, Clowns, Paris und Berlin, Milch, Fußball, Streit, Glück und natürlich über ihr neues Album gesprochen. Hört rein, Liebe MuK

Zarah Leander singt laszive Lieder. Die Wirklichkeit jedoch sieht anders aus.

Svenska musiker på tyska konsertscener inbjudna av nazister. Tyska orkestrar på charmturnéer i Norden. Hur gick det till när svenskt och tyskt musikliv räckte varandra handen under andra världskriget? Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Flera svenska musiker och tonsättare reste till Tyskland under andra världskriget. De förstod att de kunde göra fantastiska karriärer genom att fylla de luckor som uppstod efter försvunna judiska artister som flytt landet eller skickats till koncentrationsläger. Tonsättaren Kurt Atterberg och sångare som Set Svanholm, Joel Berglund och Zarah Leander sökte alla lyckan i 1940-talets Tyskland. Samtidigt åkte tyska musiker, bland annat Berlinfilharmonikerna, på charmturnéer i Norden som en del av nazisternas propagandavapen. I dag finns knappt några överlevande kvar som kan berätta hur det egentligen gick till när svenskt och tyskt musikliv räckte varandra handen under andra världskriget. Programmet tar avstamp i ett samtal med Anders Carlberg, författare till boken ”Hitlers lojala musiker”. En P2 Dokumentär av Ola Anderstedt.

Svenska musiker på tyska konsertscener inbjudna av nazister. Tyska orkestrar på charmturnéer i Norden. Hur gick det till när svenskt och tyskt musikliv räckte varandra handen under andra världskriget? Flera svenska musiker och tonsättare reste till Tyskland under andra världskriget. De förstod att de kunde göra fantastiska karriärer genom att fylla de luckor som uppstod efter försvunna judiska artister som flytt landet eller skickats till koncentrationsläger. Tonsättaren Kurt Atterberg och sångare som Set Svanholm, Joel Berglund och Zarah Leander sökte alla lyckan i 1940-talets Tyskland. Samtidigt åkte tyska musiker, bland annat Berlinfilharmonikerna, på charmturnéer i Norden som en del av nazisternas propagandavapen. I dag finns knappt några överlevande kvar som kan berätta hur det egentligen gick till när svenskt och tyskt musikliv räckte varandra handen under andra världskriget. Programmet tar avstamp i ett samtal med Anders Carlberg, författare till boken Hitlers lojala musiker. En P2 Dokumentär av Ola Anderstedt.

Museer handlar oftast om saker och ytterst sällan om enskilda individer. Men kan man ens föreställa sig ett museum som skildrar en person lika djuplodande som en rysk roman? undrar Mattias Berg. ESSÄ: Detta är en text där skribenten reflekterar över ett ämne eller ett verk. Åsikter som uttrycks är skribentens egna. Varför finns inget rejält biografiskt museum i Sverige, med fullt fokus på en människa snarare än saker?  Ett som till exempel kretsar kring Drottning Kristina, Alva Myrdal, Zlatan Ibrahimovic, Heliga Birgitta, Olof Palme, Hedvig Eleonora eller kanske upptäckaren Sten Bergman. Gestalter tillräckligt magnifika och mångfacetterade för att bära en större eller mindre kulturinstitution på egen hand. Dessutom ofta klart kontroversiella. I det utrymmet, mellan för och mot, fördomar och fakta, dyrkan och hat, kunde besökaren själv träda in: få göra sin egen analys av personen ifråga. I bästa fall skapades då en helt ny sorts museiupplevelse med möjlighet till både inlevelse och invändningar. Visst finns det ett antal mindre eller något större biografiska utställningar i Sverige, men så vitt jag vet ingen som på det sättet går i öppen dialog med sitt objekt. Kanske inte ens internationellt om man får tro boken "Skelett i garderoben. Svåra museer", som kom ut 2019. Här har Stefan Bohman, tidigare chef för bland annat Strindbergsmuseet, och den brasilianska museologen Ana Luiza Rocha do Valle studerat vad de kallar "personmuseer" här hemma och utomlands. Och de börjar hemma hos Strindbergs kanske störste antagonist, Verner von Heidenstam. Alltså på hans Övralid i Östergötland, där hemmet enligt skyltarna står kvar exakt som den lika omhuldade som omdiskuterade Akademiledamoten och Nobelpristagaren lämnade det. Bokens författare konstaterar också att begreppet "Nationalskald" på Övralid visserligen sätts inom citationstecken, men att det ändå inte direkt problematiseras. Varken Heidenstams högstämda nationalism eller hans furiösa ställningstagande för försvaret och Konungen får något större utrymme. Allt det som var och är så omstritt. Det är också forskarnas generella invändning mot personmuseerna. Att personerna själva sällan ifrågasätts eller ens kompliceras utan oftast bara sätts på piedestal. Gemensamt för till exempel lilla Zarah Leander-museet i Häradshammars bygdegård utanför Norrköping och den imposanta Millesgården på Lidingö utanför Stockholm är att man i stort sett förbigår de bägges kopplingar till nazi-Tyskland. Intressantast för en svensk läsare är nog ändå bokens internationella exempel. Inte minst hur det amerikanska inbördeskriget framställs på några olika museer över sydstatsgeneralen Robert E Lee. Han som kom att hamna mitt i även nutidens stridslinjer, efter beslutet i Charlottesville 2017 att ta ned ryttarstatyn över honom. Den som varit kontroversiell ända sedan statyn sattes upp vid slutet av 1800-talet: då den bland annat beskrevs som "ett skulpterat förräderi" av en tidning i nordstaten Indiana. Men inte på något av museerna får de här politiska komplikationerna ordentligt utrymme. Författarna skriver att General Lees eget innehav av slavar visserligen nämns, men aldrig poängteras. Den intressantaste komplikationen tycks finnas på en oansenlig skylt på museet i Arlington, utanför Washington, som tar upp frågan om varför Lee egentligen valde att slåss för sydstaterna trots att han också erbjudits befälskapet för nordstaterna. Att det möjligen inte enbart berodde på att han älskade sin hemstat Virginia, som det ofta framställs. Utan också på att generalen "kunde ha hållit med om sydsidans ståndpunkter". Saken tycks ungefär likadan på Eva Perón-museet i Buenos Aires. Den argentinska presidenthustrun, musikalens "Evita", blev för många ett slags helgon då hon under 1950-talets början gick bort i cancer, bara 33 år gammal. Bland sina motståndare sågs hon snarare som en väsentlig del av den auktoritära Peronismen. Men enligt författarna redovisas inte heller den här skarpa politiska motsättningen på museet. Stor vikt läggs i stället vid hennes kläder. En hatt används för att illustrera Eva Peróns arbete för utsatta barn, liksom dräkten vid ett rösträttsmöte eller då hon träffade Påven får gestalta andra hjältesagor om Evitas humanitära engagemang. Texterna på museet är också ofta hämtade ur Eva Peróns egen självbiografi: det är så att säga hon själv som har ordet. I en specialutställning betonas också hennes helgonlika prägel. Med Evitas dödsmask i ett dunkelt rum, som en sorts relik, och en film från begravningen rullande i bakgrunden. Och självklart ligger det i sakens natur att de flesta personmuseum skapas just för att lyfta fram personens positiva sidor, särskilt som de ofta drivs av sällskap med samma syfte. Men faktum är att objektet sällan brukar diskuteras alls, utom möjligen via en eller annan biografi som säljs i shopen. Vad vi ser på själva museet är oftast miljön snarare än människan. Hemmet, prylarna, böckerna, skrivmaskinen Bokens mest positiva exempel är väl den nya delen av Richard Wagner-museet i tyska Bayreuth, invigd 2016. Med en klart större vilja att öppet redovisa kontakterna mellan familjen Wagner och Hitler: att på det sättet åtminstone komplicera den världsberömda operafestivalens historia en smula. Exempelvis finns det olika bildspel som tydligt visar familjens inte minst Bayreuth-operans legendariska direktör Winifred Wagners flitiga umgänge med Hitler. På flera sätt visas här också på den inspiration som Wagners operor gav nazismens estetik. Bland annat jämförs den berömda slutscenen i "Mästersångarna i Nürnberg" med nazisternas egna massmöten. Med bokens frågeställningar i huvudet går jag sedan till Strindbergsmuseet på Drottninggatan i Stockholm där huvudförfattaren till "Skelett i garderoben", Stefan Bohman, alltså själv var chef under många år. Mitt intryck är också att det står sig som det bästa svenska exemplet på ett biografiskt museum, med ett ändå relativt kritiskt och analytiskt förhållningssätt till huvudpersonen. I en liten finurlig konstruktion kan man till exempel själv vända på begreppen. Trycka på skyltar med några av alla de epitet som använts om Strindberg bland annat "Missförstådd", "Galen" eller "Alkoholist" för att gradvis få fram olika synonymer och så småningom hamna i rena motsatser. Montrarna i sin tur är tematiskt upplagda kring vissa av hans mest kontroversiella citat och åsikter, med rubriker som "Kvinna-Man" eller "Antisemitism och Studier i hebreiska". På det sättet lyckas utställningen komplicera både författaren och människan: gestalta ett antal av Strindbergs mest berömda motsägelser. Och trots att formen här och där känns föråldrad, motsvarar nog innehållet fortfarande mina förväntningar på den svenska museisektorn. Nu väntar jag bara på något som verkligen överskrider dem. Ett komplext och levande personporträtt i tre dimensioner. Ett biografiskt museum mer besläktat med, säg, klassiska ryska romaner eller Rembrandts självporträtt än med den traditionella basutställningens ofta så snipigt sterila skyltar. Men kanske är det att ha för höga förväntningar på vad ett museum faktiskt kan vara, på intendenters fantasi och kulturinstitutioners resurser. Eller för att citera vad Strindberg själv lär ha sagt: "Livet är ingenting för amatörer". Mattias Berg, kulturredaktionen

Som ung gift tvåbarnsmor bodde Zarah Leander hos svärföräldrarna på prästgården i Finspång. Världslig musik sågs inte med blida ögon men det hindrade inte Zarah från att i hemlighet öva på sin sång.

Bendestorf, eine Gemeinde in der Lüneburger Heide, ist Ende der 40er Jahre der Ort in Westdeutschland mit der größten Promi-Dichte. Am 1. April 1947 erteilen die britischen Besatzungstruppen einem gewissen Rolf Meyer die Genehmigung, eine Filmproduktionsfirma zu gründen - und daraufhin stehen in Bendestorf Stars wie Marika Rökk, Zarah Leander, Götz George und Hardy Krüger vor der Kamera. Das Buch zum Podcast gibt es hier: http://shop.mopo.de/mopo-magazine/buch-der-tag-an-dem.html Die Magazine "Unser Hamburg" finden Sie hier: http://shop.mopo.de/mopo-magazine.html

Zarah Leander zu Besuch in der heimatlichen Provinzstadt. Sie singt Bach im Dom, Orpheus im Theater und - zur Entrüstung der alten Damen - ein laszives Liedchen am Klavier.

Sie war die erste TV-Werbe-Ikone im jungen Nachkriegsfernsehen. Noch vor Tilly oder Klementine warb Hannelore Cremer als Frau Renate für Produkte von Dr. Oetker. Doch parallel spielte sie in Wien auch erfolgreich Theater: an der Seite von Hans Albers, Joopi Heesters oder Zarah Leander. 2016, mit 86 Jahren, spielte sie ihre letzte Rolle: eine alte Dame im Seniorenheim. Kurze Zeit später ging sie selbst in München in eine Seniorenresidenz. Autorin: Andrea Lieblang

In dieser Radioreise nimmt Sie Alexander Tauscher mit nach Schweden, in die Region Östergötland. Freuen Sie sich eine Landschaft wie in den Filmen von Nils Holgerson: Wälder, kleine Holzhäuser, Gänse, Elche und die große Weite. Besuchen Sie mit uns einen Herrenhof, in dem es durchaus nachts spuken kann. Kommen Sie mit an den Schärengarten der Ostsee und machen Sie Urlaub auf einer schwedischen Farm. Außerdem treffen wir eine ganz besondere Dame: Die Privat-Sekretärin und wohl beste Freundin von Zarah Leander. Ein spannendes Gespräch mit Brigitte Pettersson ist ganz sicher der Höhepunkt dieser Tour. Brigitte wird uns einiges Privates über diesen großen Weltstar von damals erzählen. Viel Spaß auf der Radioreise nach Östergötland!

In dieser Radioreise nimmt Sie Alexander Tauscher mit nach Schweden, in die Region Östergötland. Freuen Sie sich eine Landschaft wie in den Filmen von Nils Holgerson: Wälder, kleine Holzhäuser, Gänse, Elche und die große Weite. Besuchen Sie mit uns einen Herrenhof, in dem es durchaus nachts spuken kann. Kommen Sie mit an den Schärengarten der Ostsee und machen Sie Urlaub auf einer schwedischen Farm. Außerdem treffen wir eine ganz besondere Dame: Die Privat-Sekretärin und wohl beste Freundin von Zarah Leander. Ein spannendes Gespräch mit Brigitte Pettersson ist ganz sicher der Höhepunkt dieser Tour. Brigitte wird uns einiges Privates über diesen großen Weltstar von damals erzählen. Viel Spaß auf der Radioreise nach Östergötland!

För att djupdyka i musikminnen, bjuder Gunilla Backman in den forne Idolvinnaren och Mellofinalisten Martin Almgren, samt Ingmarie Halling - kostymör på ABBA:s turnéer, numera curator på ABBA-museet. Gunilla Backman är tillbaka som programledare för Jukeboxen i P4 och bjuder in två gäster med härliga minnen och låtar i bagaget! I första timmen är det Idolvinnaren från 2015, tillika en av årets Mellofinalister - Martin Almgren - som tar plats i studion, tillsammans med Gunilla. Vi får höra några av de låtar som har en avgörande plats i hans liv och så berättar han om musikaliska förebilder som influerat honom till att bli artist. Att det ens blev en satsning på musiken, kan han tacka en otrevlig händelse för. I programmets andra timme kommer Ingmarie Halling på besök. Från en tidig musikkarriär som DJ i Umeå, utbildade hon sig till kostymör och har varit en viktig del i nöjessverige genom samarbeten med till exempel Povel Ramel, Zarah Leander, Ulla Sallert, Barbro "Lill-Babs" Svensson och ABBA.

... fragt Zarah Leander, kaum beachtet von ihrem fischeforschenden Ehemann. Und jeder weiß die Antwort.

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Allkonstnären Carl Johan De Geer bjuder in sin gode vän Gurra G från Just D. Tillsammans åstadkommer de en blandning av kommersiellt inriktad svensktoppspop och politiskt orienterad 70-talsrock. Musikern, författaren och skådespelaren Gustave Lund, som Gurra egentligen heter, berättar bland annat om sin stora kärlek till hiphop, gamla stenkakor och Zarah Leander. Carl Johan skildrar en överjordisk upplevelse med Jimmi Hendrix Experience och dess efterföljande debacle. Dessutom berättar han om det ögonblick när han som 70-åring för första gången hörde ABBA - och omöjligen kunde sluta gråta.

Det tidiga 1900-talets revymusik kom att göra avtryck i generationer. Möt estradörer som Emil Norlander, Zarah Leander, Karl Gerhard, Ernst Rolf och Povel Ramel - till dagsaktuella Henrik Dorsin. Med Mattias Lundberg och Esmeralda Moberg.  Avsnittets spellista på Spotify:  https://open.spotify.com/user/1126630471/playlist/66Zi33zYpEDbWn6hGCvbmD Kontakta oss på dsm@sverigesradio.se Ljudtekniker: Samuel Lindberg Producent: David Rune Den svenska musikhistorien görs av produktionsbolaget Munck.

Kalle Lind och journalisten Beata Arnborg pratar om Die Leander - diva, primadonna assoluta, bögikon, nazimedlöperska, godsägerska. Greta Garbo! Tutta Rolf! Ebba Grön!

Zarah Leander var sångare och filmstjärna. Hon slog igenom på 30-talets svenska revyscen och blev Hitler-Tysklands favoritartist. En ny stor biografi berättar om hennes vägval och dess konsekvenser. (Ur reportaget.) Det som har blivit Zarah Leanders signaturmelodi och som namngett biografin av Beata Arnborg - som heter "Se på mig" - var egentligen en sketch i 1929 års Rolfrevy, en parodi på Greta Garbo. Det var också Zarahs väg in på scen. Ernst Rolfs revy var på turné, och Zarah Leander - då en ganska fattig hemmafru med två barn - såg att namnet på föreställningens primadonna saknades i tidningsannonsen inför turnéstoppet i Norrköping. Hon satte sig på bussen för att få sjunga upp för Rolf. Det fick hon inte. Så här skriver Beata Arnborg i biografin: "Det var Zarah som den gången visade sin medfödda värmländska envishet: Vi väntar, sa hon bara, med dödsförakt i sin vackra stämma, och så blev det. Några minuter senare kom Rolf ut, i ytterkläder och på betydligt bättre humör. Hans blick föll på Zarah, och han stirrade på henne en lång stund. Sedan föreslog han, till vår måttlösa förvåning, att pianisten omedelbart skulle slå sig ned vid pianot för att ackompanjera »tösen«. Historien får avslutas av nöjesprofilen Uno »Myggan« Ericson och hans version av hur stjärnan i Zarah äntligen blottades: »Hon klämde i med Vill ni se en stjärna. Rolf blev förstummad och sa: - Ni var fanimej en överraskning. Ni får rycka in på fredag i Borås." I biografin "Se på mig" tecknar Beata Arnborg svensk 1900-talshistoria. Vi får följa en frejdig och musikaliskt begåvad Sara Stina från uppväxtåren i Värmland, genom det svenska revylandskapet med Gösta Ekman, Ulla Billquist, Karl Gerhard och Jules Sylvain och genom kärleksaffärerna hela vägen till det som blivit hennes eftermäle: uppburen och hyllad filmstjärna i det nazistiska Tyskland. Hon försökte resten av livet behålla strålglansen - utan tredje rikets fläckar... Zarah Leanders liv verkar mera spännande än många av de filmer hon gjorde. Egentligen så var platsen längst upp på den tyska filmpiedestalen vikt åt Marlene Dietrich. Men hon frånsade sig samröre med nazisterna och flyttade till USA Platsen på toppen var vakant. Och ni hör ju vilken typ som där skulle vara: den mörka rösten, förförerskan, hon som inte är en vanlig kvinna. Zarah, som hade gjort succé på scen i Wien kunde också välja mellan USA och Tyskland. I Filmjournalen 1937 säger hon: "Hollywood har så många av min typ, Berlin har ingen. Är det inte bättre att vara den första i Berlin än en av de tio, nej en av de hundra i Hollywood" Zarah blev Die Leander med hela Tyskland. Hon blev också Die Leander med dem som inte längre var önskvärda i Tredje Riket. Den Betty Boop-liknande "Kann den liebe sünde sein", alltså "Kan kärleken vara synd?", känns väl som en oskyldig svängig bit, men den fick förstås symbolisera den kärlek som helt plötsligt nu var förbjuden: från att ha varit en frigjord bubblande kreativ mylla för ALLA konstformer där ALLA fick vara med, så förvandlades Berlin under nazisterna till nåt strömlinjeformat, blont - och livsfarligt för den som inte följde den ariska normen. Men gay-ikon blev hon, Zarah. Med sina 177 centimeter och breda kurvor kunde hon också ta sig det fysiska utrymmet som nästan annars bara män hade rätten till. En av Sveriges Radios förra Tysklandskorrespondenter har berättat om hur det på varje konsert med Zarah Leander ängst fram satt bögar som klämde i med ett rungande NEIN, i "Kann denn liebe sunde sein". Det är isande obehagligt, och det känns... nära.. att läsa om hur diktaturen i Tyskland hårdnar och hur kriget väller in. Och samtidigt så förhandlar Zarah - kanske politiskt tondöv - med tyska filmbolaget UFA om mer pengar för sina filmer, och hon tar emot minkpälsar för en halv miljon kronor i present när andra svalt. Hur slutar man märka att kollegor försvinner? Kan hon verkligen ha varit den politiska idiot hon själv hävdade? Var hon bara en aningslös reklampelare för den tyska filmfabriken? Kan man bli en galjonsfigur utan att själv välja det? Jag tänker att också i konsten måste vi göra våra val. Ta ställning. Det gör inte Beata Arnborg i sin bok, ingen dom faller över Zarah Leander. Och vad det nu än var som fick Zarah Leander att bli hakkors-vamp; aningslöshet, opportunism eller vanlig hederlig girighet, så skulle hon få betala för det resten av sitt liv. Hennes låtar spelades inte på radio, hon fick inga uppdrag på scen, och det verkade nog som om inte ens publiken saknade henne. Frågan är om hon nånsin hämtade sig, och det är det väl just det som är problemet med populärkultur. När den inte längre är populär - blir det nån "kultur" kvar? Lisa Wall lisa.wall@sr.se Lyssna på hela reportaget i länken ovan.

Story: Was weiß das Kino, was wir nicht wissen? Über 1000 Spielfilme wurden in den Jahren 1933-1945 in Deutschland hergestellt. Bei den wenigsten handelt es sich um offene Propaganda. Aber noch weniger, der im Nationalsozialismus produzierten Filme sind harmlose Unterhaltung. Das nationalsozialistische Kino war staatlich gelenkt. Zugleich wollte es "großes Kino" sein. Eine deutsche Traumfabrik. "Hitlers Hollywood" erzählt erstmals von der dunkelsten und dramatischsten Periode deutscher Filmgeschichte, und erinnert zum hundertsten Geburtstag der Ufa an diese Filme und ihre Stars: Hans Albers, Heinz Rühmann, Zarah Leander, Ilse Werner, Marianne Hoppe, Gustav Gründgens und viele mehr. Die NS-Filme waren nicht nur technisch perfekt gemacht, sie waren emotional; sie weckten Sehnsüchte, ließen träumen, boten Zuflucht. Das Kino war industriell vorgefertigt und manipulativ. Vielleicht waren die Gefühle, die diese Filme weckten, oft ein Selbstbetrug, falsche Gefühle. Aber es waren eben Gefühle. Nur so ist die Wirkungskraft des NS-Kinos zu erklären. Millionen gingen seinerzeit ins Kino. Welche Träume träumten die Deutschen in ihrer ureigenen germanischen Traumfabrik? Wovon sollten sie träumen, wenn es nach den Machthabern ging? Wie funktioniert Propaganda? Was weiß das Kino, was wir nicht wissen? Kino Bundesstart: 23.02.2017 (farbfilm verleih) Hitlers Hollywood Dokumentarfilm Land: Deutschland 2016 Laufzeit: ca. 105 min. FSK: ohne Altersbegrenzung Regie: Rüdiger Suchsland Drehbuch: Rüdiger Suchsland Mit Hans Albers, Heinz Rühmann, Zarah Leander, Ilse Werner, Marianne Hoppe, Gustav Gründgens, Veit Harlan, ... https://youtu.be/TSz_8rnkgd0

Story: Was weiß das Kino, was wir nicht wissen? Über 1000 Spielfilme wurden in den Jahren 1933-1945 in Deutschland hergestellt. Bei den wenigsten handelt es sich um offene Propaganda. Aber noch weniger, der im Nationalsozialismus produzierten Filme sind harmlose Unterhaltung. Das nationalsozialistische Kino war staatlich gelenkt. Zugleich wollte es "großes Kino" sein. Eine deutsche Traumfabrik. "Hitlers Hollywood" erzählt erstmals von der dunkelsten und dramatischsten Periode deutscher Filmgeschichte, und erinnert zum hundertsten Geburtstag der Ufa an diese Filme und ihre Stars: Hans Albers, Heinz Rühmann, Zarah Leander, Ilse Werner, Marianne Hoppe, Gustav Gründgens und viele mehr. Die NS-Filme waren nicht nur technisch perfekt gemacht, sie waren emotional; sie weckten Sehnsüchte, ließen träumen, boten Zuflucht. Das Kino war industriell vorgefertigt und manipulativ. Vielleicht waren die Gefühle, die diese Filme weckten, oft ein Selbstbetrug, falsche Gefühle. Aber es waren eben Gefühle. Nur so ist die Wirkungskraft des NS-Kinos zu erklären. Millionen gingen seinerzeit ins Kino. Welche Träume träumten die Deutschen in ihrer ureigenen germanischen Traumfabrik? Wovon sollten sie träumen, wenn es nach den Machthabern ging? Wie funktioniert Propaganda? Was weiß das Kino, was wir nicht wissen? Kino Bundesstart: 23.02.2017 (farbfilm verleih) Hitlers Hollywood Dokumentarfilm Land: Deutschland 2016 Laufzeit: ca. 105 min. FSK: ohne Altersbegrenzung Regie: Rüdiger Suchsland Drehbuch: Rüdiger Suchsland Mit Hans Albers, Heinz Rühmann, Zarah Leander, Ilse Werner, Marianne Hoppe, Gustav Gründgens, Veit Harlan, ... https://youtu.be/TSz_8rnkgd0

Zarah Leander liebt und leidet und rührt zu Tränen. Und ihr Texter Bruno Balz trickst sie alle aus. Durchhalteschlager oder Widerstandslied?

In dieser Radioreise nimmt Sie Alexander Tauscher mit auf eine Tour durch Potsdam. Freuen Sie sich auf die Hauptstadt von Brandenburg vor den Toren der Bundeshauptstadt. Wir radeln durch Potsdam, durch die Altstadt bis zum Wannsee. Wir besuchen die Filmstudios in Babelsberg und sprechen über über mehr als 100 Jahre Film-Geschichte mit Namen von Alfred Hitchcock bis Zarah Leander. Kommen Sie mit auf die Glienicker Brücke, die Ost und West wieder verbindet. Erleben Sie Schlösser, die Geschichte schrieben und laufen Sie durch Parks wie Sanssouci. Am Ende dieser Tour treffen wir auf dem romantischen Gut Golm zwei Ikonen des deutschen Schlagers, Cora. Viel Spaß auf dieser Radioreise!

In dieser Radioreise nimmt Sie Alexander Tauscher mit auf eine Tour durch Potsdam. Freuen Sie sich auf die Hauptstadt von Brandenburg vor den Toren der Bundeshauptstadt. Wir radeln durch Potsdam, durch die Altstadt bis zum Wannsee. Wir besuchen die Filmstudios in Babelsberg und sprechen über über mehr als 100 Jahre Film-Geschichte mit Namen von Alfred Hitchcock bis Zarah Leander. Kommen Sie mit auf die Glienicker Brücke, die Ost und West wieder verbindet. Erleben Sie Schlösser, die Geschichte schrieben und laufen Sie durch Parks wie Sanssouci. Am Ende dieser Tour treffen wir auf dem romantischen Gut Golm zwei Ikonen des deutschen Schlagers, Cora. Viel Spaß auf dieser Radioreise!

Hey & Hallo, schön dass Ihr uns wieder hört. Heute gibt es dies auf Eure Ohren: - Wir haben einen Gast. Enrico. Frischfleisch für Frankfurt. - Hessisch für Anfänger - Enrico lernt die wichtigsten Frankfurter Wörter - Alles über die Frankfurter Rindswurst - Dann noch "Zarah Leander im Stall" - und die Aktion: "... ein Partner für Enrico" - sowie einiger Pornodialoge. Man hört unseren Spaß. DEFINITIV! Sorry, wenn wir zum Teil zu viel lachen. Die Musik ist auf dem FreeMusikArchiv: "Go! Go! Go!" von You Kill My Brother und "Hachiko" von The Kyoto Connection Take care Holger & Jorgo

Themen: Hansi Flankl feat. Thomas Spitzer - TOOOR! Schmidhammer feat. Klaus Eberhartinger - Das sind wir Weitere Infos: Korrektur: "Astronautovic" ist keine Spitzer-Erfindung, Arnautovic wurde in den Medien bereits in der Vergangenheit so genannt Thomas Spitzer auf Facebook Zarah Leander Wunder von Córdoba 1978 Fußball-Weltmeisterschaft 1978 Küss die Hand, ÖSV David Alaba Kaiser Franz Joseph I. Heinz-Christian Strache Das sind wir Maxi-CD "Das sind wir" Details zur Folge

Themen: Kann denn Schwachsinn Sünde sein? Mark Oliver Everett - Glückstage in der Hölle: Wie die Musik mein Leben rettete Wanda - Amore Blur - The Magic Whip Hubert von Goisern - Federn Weitere Infos: Video: Kann denn Liebe Sünde sein? (Zarah Leander) Bruno Balz (Texter "Kann denn Liebe Sünde sein?") Greatest Hits Albums (Rekorde und Skurriles) Text der "Kann denn Schwachsinn Sünde sein?"-Variante aus der ZDF-Show "Die 80er" Video: Otto Waalkes - Robin Hood Froschlurche Trüffel Video: Andreas Gabalier - Mountain Man Thomas Gottschalk - Herbstblond (Autobiografie) Details zur Folge

Film blir ett mäktigt propagandavapen för nazisterna som tar makten i trettiotalets Tyskland. UFA-ateljeerna utanför Berlin blir det närmaste Europa kommer ett eget Hollywood. Stora resurser satsas för att locka de stora stjärnorna. En av dem är Zarah Leander som blir en galjonsfigur för Nazityskland.

Film blir ett mäktigt propagandavapen för nazisterna som tar makten i trettiotalets Tyskland. UFA-ateljeerna utanför Berlin blir det närmaste Europa kommer ett eget Hollywood. Stora resurser satsas för att locka de stora stjärnorna. En av dem är Zarah Leander som blir en galjonsfigur för Nazityskland. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play.

I det femte avsnittet av Snedtänkt pratar Kalle Lind och nöjestriviavetaren Martin Kristenson om filmer som filmhistorien tack och lov glömt bort. I förbifarten råkar de nämna tjeckisk pilsnerfilm, östtysk vildavästernfilm, ett parti sotskadade telefonstolpar, Dirch Passer, den sorgliga historien bakom engelsk buskis, Bela Lugosi, sovjetisk musikalfilm, mästerkoreografen Busby Berkeley, Zarah Leander, kommunistisk Hollywoodfilm, Jan Myrdal, Josef Stalin, Joseph McCarthy, tysk tjugotalsqueerfilm, tysk tjugotalsbögfilm, Billy Wilder, Douglas Fairbanks kokainkomedi, Cornelis Vreeswijk, pudelträck och plasthumrar.

Bette Midler (1945-) är en artist som obesvärat har rört sig mellan bögklubbar, Broadway, biodukar och Billboardlistor de senaste fyrtio åren, plus. Hon tillhör de sällsynta artister som kan göra det mesta på en scen, med bravur. Nu är hon aktuell med sin första skiva på åtta år, Its the girls heter den och susade rakt in på den amerikanska försäljningslistan. I veckans STIL berättar vi mer om denna krutdurk till kvinna som kallats för den mest intagande, roligaste, vulgäraste, allvarligaste, mest behändiga, sämst klädda, personligaste, mest groteska person som struttat, ålat, skuttat, trippat, snubblat och kört elektrisk rullstol över en scen. Och det gjorde hon 1978. Före Lady Gaga. Ställer man frågan: ”Vad tänker du på om man säger Bette Midler”, får man de mest skiftande svar, lite beroende på den svarandes ålder. Somliga minns henne som skruvad komedienne i filmer som: På luffen i Beverly Hills, Hjärtlösa typer, Par i damer och så förstås – snyftaren Beaches, där Bette Midler även sjunger filmens tårdrypande temalåt: ”Wind beneath my wings. Den fick hon även en Grammy för, den utsågs till ”Årets skiva” 1990. Riktigt gamla och minnesgoda kanske även drar sig till minnes filmen The Rose. Och de som idag är redo att kvittera ut pension känner även till att hon en gång i tidernas begynnelse uppträdde på ”The Continental Baths” i New York, ett badhus som vände sig till homosexuella män. Det var där hon började blomma och bli till den allroundartist hon idag är – hon kan sjunga, dansa, skådespela och leverera skämt som får vuxna män att rodna.  Bette Midler har mycket riktigt blivit utnämnd till ”bögikon”. Det är hon inte ensam att kallas, även artister som Liza Minnelli, Marlene Dietrich, Zarah Leander och Diana Ross dras med eptitet. Men vad betyder det? Egentligen? Det benar vi ut i veckans program tillsammans med kulturskribenten Stefan Ingvarsson. Vi har även talat med komikerna Karin Adelsköld och Helena Sandström om det vanliga påståendet att kvinnor inte vinner lika mycket på att vara roliga och ta plats som män. Det stämmer väl inte, längre? Vi har även träffat artisten Zhala som, i likhet med Bette Midler, musikaliskt rör sig fritt mellan olika genrer. Veckans gäst är Christer Lindarw, kostymör och grundare av After Dark.

"Ich bin ein überzeugter Unterhalter und habe auch jederzeit abgelehnt, in einem Film irgendwelche Aussagen, geschweige denn politische Aussagen zu machen" - Géza von Cziffra über sein filmisches Schaffen Auf zwei Gebieten des Filmgeschäfts war er jahrelang zu Hause: Drehbuch und Regie. Und er hinterließ ein Oeuvre, das seinesgleichen sucht – Géza von Cziffra schrieb im Laufe seiner Karriere 138 Drehbücher und inszenierte über sechs Dutzend Filme. Er war auch als Buchautor erfolgreich und unterhielt den interessierten Leser mit amüsanten Anekdoten aus seinem begegnungsreichen Filmleben. Die Wiener und Berliner Bohème Zur Welt kam Géza von Cziffra am 19.12.1900 im ungarischen Arad, das seit 1918 zu Rumänien gehört. Nach dem Besuch einer Kadettenanstalt in Großwardein, das ebenfalls an Rumänien fiel, schlug er sich zunächst nach Budapest und später nach Wien durch, wo er in bekannten Kaffeehäusern die dortige Bohème kennenlernte. Sein weiterer Weg führte ihn 1923 schließlich nach Berlin, wo er unter anderem auf Kurt Tucholsky, Carl Zuckmayer oder auch Bertolt Brecht traf. Seinen Unterhalt verdiente Géza von Cziffra zunächst als Reporter beim "Berliner Tageblatt". Doch nicht der Journalismus sollte seine Bestimmung sein: Géza von Cziffra landete schließlich als Dramaturg bei verschiedenen Filmgesellschaften, für die er eine ganze Reihe von Drehbüchern schrieb. Darunter waren solche Kassenschlager wie "Weißer Flieder", "Frühlingsluft" oder auch "Der grüne Kaiser". Einen seiner größten Erfolge feierte Géza von Cziffra 1943 mit dem Eisrevuefilm "Der weiße Traum", bei dem er auch Regie führte. Und eben der Unterhaltungsfilm sollte seine Karriere beflügeln. Meister der Unterhaltung Nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg setzte Géza von Cziffra bei seiner Arbeit vor allem auf Unterhaltung. Und so entstanden unzählige Filme der "leichten Kost", zu denen er das Drehbuch schrieb und Regie führte. So zum Beispiel etwa Filme wie "Der himmlische Walzer" mit Paul Hubschmid und Curd Jürgens, "Gabriela" mit Zarah Leander, "Der bunte Traum" mit Josef Meinrad und Walter Giller oder "Tanzende Sterne" mit Germaine Damar und Georg Thomalla. Zu seinen Stammschauspielern gehörten bald auch Heinz Erhardt und Peter Alexander. Mit Heinz Erhardt drehte Géza von Cziffra solche Erfolgsfilme wie "Mädchen mit schwachem Gedächtnis", "Der müde Theodor", "Kauf dir einen bunten Luftballon", mit Peter Alexander "Das süße Leben des Grafen Bobby" oder auch "Charleys Tante". Bei den meisten Streifen stammte das Drehbuch von Géza von Cziffra, das er dann auch in Szene setzte. Nicht selten fungierte er auch als Produzent. Der Vielschreiber Der unermüdliche Vielschreiber Géza von Cziffra gab auch einige Bücher heraus. So erschien unter anderem 1975 das Buch "Kauf dir einen bunten Luftballon – Erinnerungen an Götter und Halbgötter", in dem er auf amüsante Weise seine Beobachtungen im Berliner "Romanischen Café" und in zahlreichen Wiener Kaffeehäusern wiedergibt. Ein ähnliches Buch sollte 13 Jahre später erscheinen: unter dem Titel "Ungelogen. Erinnerungen an mein Jahrhundert" brachte Géza von Cziffra ein weiteres Memoirenbuch auf den Markt. Von seinen anderen Veröffentlichungen seien etwa das Buch über den Reichstagsbrand 1933 "Hanussen, Hellseher des Teufels" oder auch der Roman "Tango" erwähnt. Géza von Cziffra war auch Träger des Bundesverdienstkreuzes der Republik Österreich. Er starb am 28.4.89 in Dießen. Zahlreiche Gazetten würdigten Géza von Cziffra in ihren Nachrufen, so schrieb etwa die "Süddeutsche Zeitung" am 2.5.89 unter anderem: "… unter den Revuefilm-Regisseuren des deutschen Nachkriegsfilms war er der Größte." Im Dezember 1980 sprach DW-Redakteurin Elisabeth Bachtler mit Géza von Cziffra über seine Arbeit. Autor: Andreas Zemke Redaktion: Diana Redlich

"Mit halbem Herzen darf man nicht arbeiten" - Zarah Leander über ihren Beruf Ihren ersten großen Auftritt hatte sie gegen Ende der 20er-Jahre. Damals sang sie als Vertretung für eine erkrankte Kollegin in der Operette "Drogne Emil" (zu Deutsch "Der kleine Emil"). Eines der Lieder trug den Titel "Wollt ihr einen Star sehen? Schaut mich an!", und es sollte wahrlich ein prophetisches Lied werden: Zarah Leander stieg innerhalb kürzester Zeit zum Superstar der Ufa auf, der nach nur wenigen Filmen zum Objekt der Sehnsucht und der Begierde der Deutschen wurde. Über Nacht zum Star Zur Welt kam Zarah Leander am 15.3.1907 im schwedischen Karlstad unter dem Namen Sara Stina Hedberg. Bereits im Alter von vier Jahren bekam sie Klavier- und Geigenunterricht. Nach dem Gymnasium studierte sie Musik und Sprachen. In Riga erlernte sie die deutsche Sprache. Die junge Zarah Leander verspürte immer mehr den Wunsch, Schauspielerin zu werden, doch bei der Aufnahmeprüfung an der Königlichen Schauspielschule Stockholm scheiterte sie. Ihr Weg führte sie dann an eine Provinzbühne, von der sie aber bald an das Vasa-Theater in Stockholm engagiert wurde. Es folgten kurz danach Gastspiele an verschiedenen anderen Bühnen, und auch die Filmindustrie wurde rasch auf die junge Schauspielerin aufmerksam. Das erste Mal stand Zarah Leander 1931 vor der Kamera: in der schwedisch-französischen Komödie "Falska Millionären" spielte sie die Rolle der Marguerite Lebon. Es folgten zwei weitere schwedische Filmproduktionen mit Zarah Leander, bevor sie an das Theater an der Wien wechselte. Hier wurde sie in der Operette „Axel an der Himmelstür“ von Ralph Benatzky als Gloria Mills über Nacht zum Star. Ihr Aufstieg nahm ein rasantes Tempo. Auf dem Gipfel des Ruhms Den ersten deutschsprachigen Film drehte Zarah Leander 1937 in Österreich. In dem Spielfilm "Premiere" von Géza von Bolváry spielte sie die Carmen Daviot. Es hagelte nun Rollenangebote aus London und Hollywood, doch Zarah Leander entschied sich für einen Vertrag mit der Berliner Ufa. Dank der darauf folgenden Filmproduktionen stieg Zarah Leander zur Diva des deutschen Kinos auf. Filme wie "Zu neuen Ufern", "La Habanera", "Es war eine rauschende Ballnacht" oder "Die große Liebe" waren wahre Straßenfeger und brachten dabei der Ufa fabelhafte Einnahmen. Ihre dunkle, tiefe Stimme wurde zum Markenzeichen von Zarah Leander, und viele der Lieder, die sie in den Filmen sang, wurden zu "Hits" in den damaligen Jahren. Lieder wie "Nur nicht aus Liebe weinen", "Ich weiß, es wird einmal ein Wunder geschehen" oder "Kann denn Liebe Sünde sein?" wurden in ganz Deutschland gesungen. Nach der Zerstörung ihres Hauses in Berlin durch Bomben ging Zarah Leander 1943 auf ihr Gut Lönö nach Schweden zurück. Spionin und Kollaborateurin Die Fortsetzung ihrer Arbeit in der Heimat erwies sich jedoch zunächst als schwierig, denn von vielen Landsleuten wurde Zarah Leander als Kollaborateurin mit den deutschen nationalsozialistischen Machthabern angesehen. Zusätzlich lebten auch Gerüchte über eine angebliche Spionagetätigkeit der Diva wieder auf. Sie selbst bezeichnete sich stets als völlig unpolitisch. Nach dem Zusammenbruch des Dritten Reichs dauerte es noch zwei Jahre, ehe Zarah Leander einen Comebackversuch startete. Zunächst ging die Schauspielerin 1947 in die Schweiz. Von dort absolvierte sie Konzertauftritte und nahm auch neue Lieder auf. Im Nachkriegsdeutschland stand Zarah Leander 1950 wieder vor der Kamera: in dem Drama "Gabriela" von Géza von Cziffra spielte sie die Titelrolle. Es folgten weitere Filme mit ihr wie etwa "Cuba Cabana" von Fritz Peter Buch, "Der blaue Nachtfalter" von Wolfgang Schleif oder auch "Ave Maria" von Alfred Braun. Daneben trat sie erfolgreich in zahlreichen Musicals auf. Das letzte Mal stand sie 1978 auf der Bühne. Zarah Leander starb am 23.6.81 in Stockholm. Im März 1967 sprach für die DW Christine Kaiser mit Zarah Leander über ihre Arbeit. Autor: Andreas Zemke Redaktion: Diana Redlich

Den fjärde maj bråkade vi om kött i kommunen, USAs konstanta krigande, Eriks risiga beteende, Ebba Grön vs. Zarah Leander och hur otroligt fel det är att säga 'egenKLIGEN' när man menar 'egentligen'. Av och med Jakob Green Werkmäster, Niklas Linderoth och Erik Adell

Kläderna gör filmen 20120106 KINO har jullov, här är ett specialprogram om två filmkostymörer signerat Lars Lönroth. Marik Vos arbetade under 40 år som kostymtecknare och scenograf på Dramaten i Stockholm. Ingmar Bergman anlitade henne till flera av sina filmer som "Jungfrukällan", "Tystnaden" och "Fanny och Alexander", för vilken hon fick en Oscar för bästa kostymer. Mago, Max Goldstein, ritade kostymer till otaliga revy- och teaterföreställningar och till ett dussintal Ingmar Bergman-filmer, bland andra "Gycklarnas afton", Nattvardsgästerna" och "Persona". Mago berättar i programmet också om sitt samarbete med regissören Arne Mattson och om hur han klätt primadonnor som Marlene Dietrich och Zarah Leander.

Inför Folkoperans återupprättelse av artisten Zarah Leander, berättar genusvetaren Tiina Rosenberg om Zarah som skamstjärna. Och estradörsångaren Mattias Enn framför Zarahs sånger. Vi frågar också Sveriges mest jagade konstnär Lars Vilks varför han är så intresserad av religiösa symboler och vilket pris han är beredd att betala för att framföra sina verk. Prästen Gita Andersson och filosofen Roland Poirier Martinsson recenserar SVT:s grundande av en ny religion.

Inför Folkoperans återupprättelse av artisten Zarah Leander, berättar genusvetaren Tiina Rosenberg om Zarah som skamstjärna. Och estradörsångaren Mattias Enn framför Zarahs sånger. Vi frågar också Sveriges mest jagade konstnär Lars Vilks varför han är så intresserad av religiösa symboler och vilket pris han är beredd att betala för att framföra sina verk. Prästen Gita Andersson och filosofen Roland Poirier Martinsson recenserar SVT:s grundande av en ny religion.

 A pot-pourri of selections that have in common the letter "Z." Included are scenes from Zaira, Zaza, and an opera byZandonai, plus scenes and arias as sung by: Zeani, Zamboni, Zajick, Zednik, Zschau, Zanasi,Zinetti, Ziliani, Zenatello, Zylis-Gara, Zakharova,plus Zinka Milanov, Zarah Leander, and evenZubin Mehta conducting. I zinzerely hope you will not fall azleep whilelizening to these zelections.                      Zounds like fun!!!!!