Classic Ross Amico

Tag: Philadelphia

Adieu, Bernard Rands

My friend Mather Pfeiffenberger tipped me off last week that composer Bernard Rands died. I received the news with some amazement, as I could have sworn he’d been gone for some time. But Rands lived to a venerable age, passing on March 4, two days after his 92nd birthday.

He was a regular presence at Philadelphia Orchestra concerts during Riccardo Muti’s music directorship in the 1980s and ‘90s. He served as the orchestra’s composer-in-residence from 1989 to 1995. If I remember correctly, as part of his job description, he offered advice on new music and exercised enormous influence over Muti’s contemporary programming. I can’t say I took to very many of the works that were performed, but I was young then. I might appreciate them more now.

EDIT: I did NOT remember correctly. It was Richard Wernick who advised Muti. I wrote about Wernick when he died last April. (Please note, it was A.I. that generated the headline.)

https://rossamico.com/2025/04/28/richard-wernick-pulitzer-winner-almost-hit-me/

Born in Sheffield, England, Rands studied with Pierre Boulez and Bruno Maderna in Darmstadt and Luigi Dallapiccola and Luciano Berio in Milan. This certainly gave him a grounding in contemporary and avant-garde techniques – unquestionably he was well-versed in the multifarious musical idioms of the day, at least the more abstract ones – but I never detected anything that would frighten the horses in his own works.

Among his residencies in the United States was a stint at Princeton University. He emigrated to the U.S. in 1975 and became an American citizen in 1983. He also held teaching posts at the University of California, San Diego, Juilliard, Yale, Boston University, and from 1988 to 2005, Harvard University.

He was married to the composer Augusta Read Thomas. I actually had dinner with them once in Philadelphia, I believe in connection with an Orchestra 2001 concert in 2007. We were not the only guests, and if we talked at all it couldn’t have been about anything of substance, because I can’t remember anything about it.

Rands was an influential figure, no doubt, as an advisor and teacher. He composed around 100 works, which were widely performed, and many of them were recorded. I was a frequent enough attendee of Philadelphia Orchestra concerts back in the day that I was present at the performances that were documented on this New World Records release, including “Canti dell’Eclissi” conducted by Gerard Schwarz, who as I recall was an eleventh-hour substitution for Muti, who was down with the flu. “Canti” was the recipient of the Pulitzer Prize for Music in 1984.

I can’t say it was my favorite of his works.

I thought “Le Tambourin Suite No. 1” was more my speed, but it’s not hitting me right this morning. It would go down a lot easier if it sounded more like “Le tombeau de Couperin.”

In reviews, his music was often compared to that of Ravel and Debussy. This “Aubade,” the second of three movements that make up his English Horn Concerto, seems like something I could live with.

Rands always seemed like a nice guy. I wish I liked his music better.

R.I.P.

———

Rands on listening to new music

“Adieu”

March 12, 2026
Farewell, Uncle Floyd

When somebody like Uncle Floyd goes, it really stirs up memories of a certain era of my life.

If you don’t know, Uncle Floyd – born Floyd Vivino – was a homegrown, under-the-radar Jersey icon. If that seems paradoxical, you have to understand, for decades he hosted a comedy-variety show that drifted around UHF and local cable outlets in Philadelphia and New Jersey. The budget for each episode must have been about $1.98 – it had all the visual allure of public-access – so I was surprised to learn the show was eventually picked up for “national” syndication, gaining further exposure in Chicago, Boston, and Hartford. I’d always assumed Floyd was as inextricably part of regional lore as the Philadelphia Mummers. Tastykake, and Taylor Ham.

When you turned on “The Uncle Floyd Show,” you knew you were in for a half hour of burlesque, under-rehearsed (if at all) sketch comedy, in-jokes at the expense of cast and crew (he got a lot of mileage out of Scott Gordon’s weight and Netto having gone to jail), their colleagues invariably busting up off-camera (often funnier than the show). It was also a showcase for Floyd’s nimble fingers, which played across the keyboard of a jangly upright with all the dexterity of Chico Marx.

Presented in the style of a kids show, it had a touch of Soupy Sales (Floyd was always interacting with puppets and slipping in jokes only adults would get). It was also a living museum of a bygone era, of vaudeville, the burlesque house, and the golden age of novelty songs. There were plenty of groaners among the jokes. A lot of the gags had whiskers. But I always say there are two kinds of comedy: the kind that delights because the pay-off is totally unexpected, and the kind where you see the punchline coming from miles away, but the delivery sticks its landing so well you can’t help but laugh. “The Uncle Floyd Show” was a showcase for the latter.

Floyd was a cult figure who somehow attracted fans like John Lennon and David Bowie, who both tuned in from New York. Also, like David Letterman in his early days on “Late Night,” he would introduce acts on the show that you would swear were put-ons, only to discover after not too long that their careers would explode. I remember seeing Cyndi Lauper on there for the first time, and I thought there’s no way she’s real. Is she?

Occasionally, he would have on a top act, and you’d wonder how the hell did Floyd get Blue Öyster Cult? Then he would gently razz them by cutting to a photo of one of their early gigs, playing a bar mitzvah in Long Island.

Everyone was a pretty good sport, except Joe Franklin, another low-rent cult media icon. If you lived beyond the New York broadcast area, back in the day, you probably have no idea who I’m talking about. Franklin interviewed faded movie stars and other people in the entertainment industry, notably up-and-coming actors who hadn’t quite hit. It was another entertaining show, but also very cheap and very, very quirky. Franklin was offended when Floyd appeared on-camera as Joe Frankfurter, with a garbage can over his head and talking over his guests. Franklin, notoriously thin-skinned, sued him for libel to the tune of $35 million dollars. Naturally, the suit went nowhere.

There was also a recurring sketch featuring “The Dull Family” of Easton, PA (my hometown, but I didn’t sue).

On weeknights, after dinner, my stepfather, my best friend, and I would often retire to the living room to enjoy the half-hour show. You never knew what kind of double-entendre was going to sail out of the tube. Often the material and/or execution was so lame, it was hilarious, and everyone involved was in on the joke. Floyd himself, however, was a consummate performer, with innate timing, and a virtuoso of his kind.

A staple of every show was a send-up of a ventriloquism act, in which Floyd would engage in some repartee with a puppet sidekick – only the camera would never show Floyd’s lips when the puppet spoke. The best known of these was Oogie, a diminutive clown with Larry Fine hair protruding from beneath a paddy cap, and a London Fog coat. Also Bones Boy, a skeleton who randomly exclaimed, “Snap it!” And Hugo, who was, well, a Hugo doll. (Look it up.)

What Floyd didn’t have was fashion sense – a blind spot he cultivated – and he proudly showed up at his gigs in trademark hat, bow tie, and jacket, all with clashing patterns.

I was surprised to see him break into bit parts in the movies, credited under his birth name. He’s quite visible throughout “Good Morning, Vietnam.” He also had other parts on mainstream television, appearing on “Law & Order,” “Cosby,” and others.

In the early spring of 2020, I learned that Floyd was scheduled to appear at an Italian-American event being held at a restaurant a half-mile from my parents’ house – the very house at which we had viewed so many episodes of the show. How could I not go? So I made the trip home to catch Floyd’s act, again in the company of my stepfather and my best friend. It’s hard to believe, the better part of 40 years had passed.

Floyd came out and entertained the crowd with well-timed jokes that all stuck their landings. He also had a keyboard with him so that he could share the kind of music he had championed his entire career. Yes, he had the hat and the jacket and a bow tie (black, because of the solemn occasion?).

We went back and talked to him after the set. He seemed fairly low-key, but he warmed considerably as it became obvious that we really remembered so much about the show and knew so many of the songs. My friend had his ukulele with him to illustrate. We got a couple of pictures taken, and he gave us an autograph. Floyd seemed genuine, but I could tell he was tired at the end of a gig. His eyes wandered around the room as he waited for his paycheck. When the bearer appeared, he excused himself, saying he had to get back to Jersey.

My friend and I were already in the car when we saw Floyd exit the building. I rolled down the windows, and my friend began singing and playing “Deep in the Heart of Jersey” as we pulled away like a couple of crazy kids, now in their 50s. I could see Floyd was genuinely amused.

Afterward, on my way back to Princeton, I was heading down Route 31, when I stopped at a light in Flemington. As I waited, I noticed an electronic bulletin board outside the Elks Lodge, advertising who should be scheduled to appear the next week, but Uncle Floyd! I thought how amusing it would be if my friend and I arranged to be there, so soon after the Easton appearance.

We probably wouldn’t have followed through on it (my friend, who doesn’t drive, would have had to come up from Philadelphia), but in the event, the show was cancelled anyway, as Floyd’s visit to Easton would be the last live entertainment any of us would experience for well over a year. The next week, the Elks Lodge and everything else was shut down as COVID-19 swept New Jersey.

“The Uncle Floyd Show” ran from 1974 to 2001. After the show went off the air, Floyd continued to appear solo and in comedy revues around the area. He also took his schtick to radio.

Floyd was 74 years-old at the time of his death on January 22. He made countless people smile and forget their troubles. It was a life better spent than perhaps he ever knew.

R.I.P.

——-

Uncle Floyd as Julia Step-Child

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=af-QDOPNNkE

An entire Oogie bit built around in-jokes about staffers Mugsy and Scott Gordon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qjx_n2VB0kY

Floyd tickling the ivories

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nnnnzfJ0P8

“Josephina Please No Leana on the Bell”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ki6q6bTaZR4

Floyd, before an appreciative crowd at the Capitol Theatre of Passaic, performing “Deep in the Heart of Jersey”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mm8ZOQkzyFc&t

Floyd entered the Guinness Book of World Records in 1999 after playing the piano for 24 hours and 15 minutes, to raise money for a local family to cover medical bills for their son with cystic fibrosis.

January 26, 2026
Diverse, Disciplined, and Dignified: Philadelphia’s Leon Bates Dies at 76

It is with regret that I learn that Leon Bates, Philadelphia born and bred, has died. With his dual devotion to music and bodybuilding, Bates was a very interesting man, at the time he was making his name not at all fitting the image of what I imagine many people held of a typical concert pianist. Bates stood 6’ 4” and at his physical peak could bench press 300 pounds.

His repertoire was broad, ranging from the meat-and-potatoes classics to works by repertory American composers Edward MacDowell and George Gershwin to those of contemporary masters George Walker, William Bolcom, and Adolphus Hailstork; also, those of jazz pianist Chick Corea. Bates internalized the lessons of jazz in his performance of the classics. At the very least, he believed music should never be performed the same way twice. He also preferred to find his own way to the core of a piece, and when preparing for a concert, he shunned exposure to recorded interpretations by other pianists.

For as interesting as he was as a person, there was nothing flamboyant in his personality. When your interests already seem so wildly diverse and you excel at everything you do, there’s no need to make a big show of it. You just do what you do with precision and grace.

I had the good fortune to interview Bates for the Times of Trenton in 2016. Two years later, he retired from the concert stage at the age of 68, after a diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. For a time, he thought maybe he had been drinking too much coffee.

Bates died on Friday. He was 76 years old.

R.I.P.

*****

Here’s a link to the article. Since everything is on the internet forever except for the stuff you want, I’m also including the text below.

https://www.nj.com/times-entertainment/2016/12/classical_music_new_addition_t.html

If you’re looking for the inspiration to stick to your New Year’s resolution, you need look no further than pianist Leon Bates. Bates, whose life has been enriched by both music and sports, is as disciplined as they come. The results are evident in a career that has been marked by unflagging energy and an unusual focus on physical fitness.

“It definitely helps with the stamina,” he says of his weight training. “To be able to play a piano concerto, with an orchestra, is a tremendous responsibility. It requires a lot of energy. Discipline is a thing that is extremely important. Any kind of an experience where you have a chance to demonstrate your discipline, you get results. You’re encouraged and you’re reinforced by the results that you get when you do things correctly.”

Bates will join the Capital Philharmonic of New Jersey for its annual New Year’s Eve concert this Saturday night at the Trenton War Memorial. The orchestra’s music director, Daniel Spalding will conduct a program of buoyant classics, including works by Franz von Suppé, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, Leonard Bernstein, and Johann Strauss II. Bates will be the soloist in George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue.”

“‘Rhapsody in Blue’ has had such favor with audiences I think, because it’s got recognizable melodies that are very enjoyable,” he says. “People, regardless of whether they know music or not, can identify with it. As far as my association with the piece, I try to keep it fresh by injecting little aspects of improvisation here and there. Gershwin had that particular quality of being able to blend elements of jazz, elements of music from the ‘20s, with classical literature. It’s a winning combination which has worked very well for him.”

Bates’ dynamic career has included performances with the Philadelphia Orchestra, the New York Philharmonic, the Cleveland Orchestra, the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and the symphony orchestras of Atlanta, Boston, Detroit and San Francisco. He has toured the United States with the Boston Pops under Keith Lockhart and the Orchestra of France under Lorin Maazel. He has appeared with leading orchestras and at prestigious music festivals around the world.

“When I got involved with weight training, I found that there was a very, very direct corollary between being able to do sets and reps in the gym, trying to train a specific muscle and finding that there was a great deal of discipline involved in doing the activity correctly, with the proper technique, and what I am saying about music, being able to practice an idea over and over until you get that right, and having the stamina and fortitude to do that.”

A native of Philadelphia, he understands just how fortunate he was as a child and teenager to have supportive and nurturing mentors in his life, starting with his parents, who were extraordinary people of limited financial means. His father drove a forklift for Sears, Roebuck & Co., and his mother was a homemaker. Yet they saw to it that Bates never wanted for a musical education.

“My mother was very attentive to me, and as she saw me gravitate towards pianos, she took the initiative to start me with lessons when I was about six,” Bates says. “From the very beginning, I was always ambitious about wanting to be able to play music. I played on a recital for the first time when I was about seven years-old, and I was hooked.” His parents bought him his first piano, which he had until he was 15, and later, a small grand piano to help him prepare for his career as a concert musician.

He is also thankful for his three influential teachers. Cristofor Sinjani taught him privately at his Germantown studio for six years. (“He was a very good role model,” Bates says. “He taught me more than how to play the piano; he taught me how to be a good musician.”) For five years, he studied with Irene Beck at the Settlement Music School. (“She had great aspirations for me to become a concert pianist, which was what I wanted to do since I was 12 or 13.”) He went on to major in Piano Performance at Temple University with the distinguished pedagogue Natalie Hinderas. (“She was really an outstanding performer as well as a very fine teacher.”)

Bates himself has made it a point to share something of his musical good fortune, through conducting master classes with young musicians and by playing for elementary, middle, and high school students. “I think it’s really important for young people to be exposed to these kinds of things, on as many different levels, and through as many different opportunities as possible. You never know what kind of door it will open to them down the road.”

November 24, 2025
At 95, Amram Collects No Moss

Philadelphia’s musical polyglot is 95 today.

David Amram, born in Philadelphia on this date in 1930, has always been equally at home in classical music, jazz, folk, and world music. The composer of over 100 orchestral and chamber works, music for Broadway and film (including the scores for “Splendor in the Grass” and “The Manchurian Candidate”), and two operas, he’s also the author of three books: “Vibrations: The Adventures and Musical Times of David Amram” (1968), “Offbeat: Collaborating with Kerouac” (2002), and “Upbeat: Nine Lives of a Musical Cat” (2007).

Amram, who now makes his home in Putnam Valley, NY, was raised on a farm in Bucks County, PA. There, he was introduced to classical, jazz, and cantorial music by his father and uncle. He took piano lessons and experimented with instruments of the brass family, finally centering on the French horn. Following a year at Oberlin, he lit out for George Washington University, where he studied history. While there, he performed as a freelance hornist with the National Symphony. He also studied privately with two musicians in the orchestra.

Amram became a pioneer of the “jazz French horn,” as well as the New York Philharmonic’s first composer-in-residence (designated such in 1966). He’s worked with artists ranging from Dizzy Gillespie to Bob Dylan to Leonard Bernstein, from Jack Kerouac to Arthur Miller, from Christopher Plummer to Johnny Depp. He’s a musician without borders, always open to new experiences.

At 95, Amram is still cookin’. Think I’m exaggerating? Check out his calendar at his website.

https://www.davidamram.com/calendar.php?year=2025

He just performed in Tarrytown last week, and he’s got a couple of birthday concerts imminent, in Schenectady and NYC (at Dizzy’s Club at Columbus Circle, presented by Jazz at Lincoln Center).

A new recording of his chamber music was just issued on Naxos on November 14. This follows an album on Guthrie Legacy Recordings dedicated to Woody Guthrie and Phil Ochs, released in August.

Clearly he ascribes to the maxim that to rest is to rust. He’s also keeping busy with a new orchestral piece, his fourth book, and a transcription for symphonic winds of “This Land: Symphonic Variations on a Song by Woody Guthrie” for a scheduled premiere at Ohio State College in June.

Amram is high on life, he exudes love, and he makes the world a better place. The guy deserves all his success.

Sending another happy birthday via “ESP thought-o-gram” to David Amram. May there be many more.

————

Trailer for “David Amram: The First 80 Years”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5v6MeanQ28

Amram Horn Concerto

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8J0w1uMfXo

Amram with Dizzy Gillespie

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j69jBSwi-f4

Amram’s music for “The Manchurian Candidate”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWrtyCzWE_w&t

Wonderful snapshot of the man and artist, who more and more seems a prophet of our age

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gk0M6n_nBYo

Amram jamming at the Philadelphia Folk Festival in 2011

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHdo_-GnUgI

Amram in February (age 94)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mQ7FBwbAkw

“Pull My Daisy”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lCBNfnVGtc

November 17, 2025
Benita Valente Soprano Passes Away at 91

I am so very sorry to learn of the death of soprano Benita Valente. Valente, who only just turned 91 on October 19, died at her home in Philadelphia yesterday.

Despite her unfailingly pure sound, no one could ever accuse her of lacking versatility. She was praised for her Mozart heroines. Over the course of her career, she sang Pamina 200 times, including at the Metropolitan Opera, belatedly (she’d already sung the role for some 20 years), beginning in 1973. She also impressed with her Gilda in Verdi’s “Rigoletto,” her Violetta in Verdi’s “La traviata,” and her Mimi in Puccini’s “La bohème.”

But her voice was also ideally suited to Bach cantatas and lieder recitals encompassing a broad swath of the repertoire, including songs of Schubert, Schumann, and Wolf.

She received a Grammy Award for her recording of Arnold Schoenberg’s String Quartet No. 2 and was nominated for her recording of Haydn’s “Seven Last Words of Christ,” both with the Juilliard String Quartet.

Composers who wrote music specifically for her include William Bolcom, Alberto Ginastera, John Harbison, Libby Larsen, and Richard Wernick.

I was lucky to have heard her sing Handel’s Ginevra opposite Tatiana Troyanos’ Ariodante with the Opera Company of Philadelphia in 1989. It seemed the two singers were pretty much joined at the hip during that period.

But of course, it is in the classic recording of Schubert’s “The Shepherd on the Rock,” with clarinetist Harold Wright and pianist Rudolf Serkin, that she had really touched my heart.

She was married to Anthony Checchia, founding artistic director of the Philadelphia Chamber Music Society and administrator for the Marlboro Music Festival, who died last year at the age of 94.

Valente was so much a musical presence – and a source of Philadelphia pride for so long – that her passing is inconceivable.

R.I.P.

Schubert, “The Shepherd on the Rock”

Brahms, “Liebeslieder Waltzes,” with alto Marlena Kleinman, tenor (later beloved radio host) Wayne Conner, bass (also Valente’s teacher) Martial Sigher, and pianists Serkin and Leon Fleisher

Handel, “Lascia ch’io pianga” from “Rinaldo”

Handel, “Radamisto”

PHOTO: Valente (front left) with Tatiana Troyanos in “Ariodante” at Santa Fe Opera in 1987

October 25, 2025

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