New York in 1953 was a cauldron of modernism, and never before or since has there been a moment when American intellectuals were more passionately interested in a wider range of nonliterary artistic activities, from cool jazz to Abstract Expressionist painting to the neo-classical dance of George Balanchine’s New York City Ballet.
I am listening to Noah Greenberg and the Pro Musica perform The Play of Herod, which is also no longer available except in used copies, I gather (but you can listen to it here). I found it gratifying to read that Greenberg conducted "amateur choruses consisting of members of the International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union." That was my mother's union.
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