Target: Schreker

My copy of the New Yorker arrives in Florida a few days after everyone else's does. The first thing I read is Alex Ross's piece on Franz Schreker's operas. (I could have read it online, but I like to savor good things on printed pages.) With his customary rare style and elegance, Alex sells me Schreker, and I'm buying. (He can sell me anything, even La Gioconda if he wished.) Last night, to bed, I read more of Andrew Porter's accounts of opera in the 70s. That age's important New Yorker music critic had none of Alex's delicious restraint, none of the kind of control of words that allows a piece to breathe and glide miraculously. (As far as style, Porter is a queen when it comes to his opera criticism.) What a contrast. I'm looking at my thousands-strong record collection, and I realize I have no Schreker. (Alex asks, what about Schreker?) OK, OK. My excuse is, I'm barely midway through life expectancy. I know that my later years will be occupied by such things. What's your excuse?

All about Schreker [New Yorker]
What about Schreker? [therestisnoise]

Meanwhile, Target buys up all of this New Yorker issue's ad space. Read about the chatter surrounding the stunt. I thought the ads were cute. Though I prefer spending my money elsewhere.

Discount retailer goes to the New Yorker [Slate]
The Odd Couple [OGIC, About Last Night]
Just to be clear [Maud Newton]
The New Yorker's Target audience [gothamist]
Target's BuyBlue rating [buyblue.org]