Star Books

It’s  so hot in Ohio I’m tempted to try frying an egg on the sidewalk. I am not complaining though because today  I am blessedly, ecstatically ALONE with the books. All week I have lived with contractors and constant noise and interruption, none of which was their fault., but it’s still a relief to be back to myself again for a couple days. One thing this work on the house has taught me (again) is that I am really a hermit at heart. I love people, love socializing (sometimes), but can spend hours and hours, days and days, alone without complaint.

So today is truly a blessing, made more so by an interesting sale on ABE. I mentioned last time I wrote that I’d sold a gargantuan book measuring 33” tall (it’s actually just 27” – that was the wrapped size) and was bummed because I felt sure that the high cost of postage would kill the sale. It didn’t though and not only did I sell the book, but I learned a great deal about it from my charming Swiss customer. But first a little back story.

I bought this book maybe four or five  years ago at an estate sale at an old house that had a radio tower on the property. The books were fabulous and I bought heavily over two days, mostly stuff on old radio, astronomy, and printing and printing inks. There were two of these oversized astronomy books and I had Atlas Borealis and another seller had Atlas Elipticalis. Both were painstakingly drawn by Antonin Becvar and published in 1958 and 1962 respectively by the Publishing House of the Czechoslovak Academy of Science. Neither book has any text whasoever --  just  color plates and every plate is a variation of what you see in the photo below.  

Atlas Borealis described itself thus: "Contains all stars with known precise positions, without limitation as to the magnitude, in the declination zones +30 degrees to the north pole. Stellar magnitudes are indicated in the photographic scale which range by half magnitudes, stellar spectra are represented by six colors. Double and multiple stars down to the joint magnitude of the components 10.0 are included. Stars with the distance not exceeding 60" are plotted as binaries, but the components of binaries with the distance greater than 60" are plotted separately. Variable stars down to the photographic magnitude 10.0 at the maximum brightness are included. Stereoscopic binaries and eclipsing variable stars are included in a uniform fashion. The boundaries of the constellations have been reduced to the equinox of the atlas, 1950.0"

Scintillating, yes? Actually, yes! While I admit to a profound ignorance of such advanced astronomy everything in me buzzed at the sight of these books. I could hardly stand it that the other guy had Atlas Elipticalis. But then – miracle of miracles – just as I got in line to check out he came over to me and said, “You want this? I thought it was better than it is. I don’t really think it’s anything, but I thought I’d ask you if you want it.” Oh, I wanted it all right. In fact, I had to curl my toes to keep my feet on the ground.

I sold Atlas Borealis almost immediately in my ebay store (this was back when life was “gooder” on ebay) and shipped it off to Japan. But Atlas Elipticalis hung around in the closet for a couple years until this past Thursday when I rediscovered it and listed it on ABE. It sold immediately and after accepting the exorbitant shipping cost,  the buyer, an amateur astronomer and professional musician, told me a bang-up good story about it. It seems that the musician, John (Milton) Cage, noted for his wildly experimental compositions, created an orchestral piece named after this book – Atlas Elipticalis.  Cage had discovered Becvar’s Sky Books at the observatory at Wesleyan University where  he taught and used this one to compose his score. He did it by overlaying star charts with musical staves and using chance operations to determine pitch and construct “constellations” within the part of each instrument. The beauty of it is that though it contains  86 parts, any part can be played at any time according to the conductor or performer’s discretion.

The music debuted in Montreal in 1962, but the American debut in New York in 1964 with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of Leonard Bernstein is the zinger. The musicians refused to follow the score and Bernstein didn’t seem to care. Some say he was even part of the sabotage. Needless to say, the performance was not as expected. But here's the shocker -- when the audience booed Cage as  he walked out on stage the musicians  joined in!

I found a YouTube recording if you’d like to hear it as it should be played. While I don't love it,  I don’t hate it either, and definitely find it fascinating how it came to be. I also think that Bernstein and company could have been a little nicer. But hit the play button and  judge for yourself …

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thLGEwlBxjA

P.S. Saturday Evening Post, I think you might like this post!