music

The bassoonist Luciano Magnanini has been a fixture of South Florida's classical music scene for the past four decades. He has played around the world and performed under the conductors Leonard Bertstein and Zubin Mehta. In 1972, after arriving from Italy via Peru and Mexico, Magnanini began a 40-year teaching career at the University of Miami. He’s retiring in May, and this Sunday he performs a chamber concert celebrating his career.

Under the Sun likes to feature some of the local talent that provide the soundtracks to our stories of life in South Florida.  We worked with Radioboxer to use their songs, “Cat’s Meow,” and “While You Wait,” in an Under the Sun piece, “Loyalty Oath.” We also got to chat with Jota Dazza on everything from the band’s inception to how Miami influences thei

On any given weekend, you might walk by The Old School Square parking garage in Delray Beach and hear the sounds of jazz or blues or classical music wafting from the ground floor.

It’s an innovative venue known as the 'Arts Garage' and, yes, the rest of the building is actually devoted to cradling cars.

But the ground floor is where all the action is.

No vehicles there, no take-a-ticket machines, no yellow lines, no parking attendants to be seen, mostly live music in a 5500 square foot garage.

One of the aftereffects of the earthquake in Haiti is that local journalists have found new freedom. Many are now airing the kinds of political commentary and criticism that used to invite violence and censure– even death.

The shift comes across loud and clear on Haiti’s airwaves, where most people get their news.

Jennifer Maloney brings us the story of Haitian radio host and reporter Makenson Remy, known to listeners as “Four-by-Four” because of his rugged brand of go-anywhere reporting.

This hymn is the one you hear under our piece, “Faith in the Aftermath.” The original segment explores how parishioners at Notre Dame D’Haiti Catholic Church here in Miami leaned on their faith and on song after their country’s massive earthquake– to heal and to release their grief.