Once upon a time when I was a lad, my mother had a collection of 78s, all of them were classic works. All of the great names were represented in her small collection. And, when the mood struck her, my mother would allow us to listen to them on her portable hi-fi. (Crosley Traveler?) I have no idea where she got them or who gave them to her. I know she revered these recordings and tried to teach her children about the finer things that can enrich one's life.
One of my favorite recordings was Mozart's "The Turkish March." As a child I was never quite sure if the song was playing at the right speed because it certainly seemed frantic. In the end, my attraction for that particular song, perhaps proves, however, that I was destined to come to Turkey, even though it doesn't sound like any music I've ever heard in this country.
Here we have a lovely rendition by a street performer in Munich by the name of Alex Jacobowitz played on a maribma.
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