
Beethoven died in 1827. Chopin died in 1849. Liszt died in 1886. But, apparently, that didn’t stop any of 'em from writing new music. In the 1960s, an unassuming British widow named Rosemary Brown alleged Liszt appeared beside her piano and began guiding her hands through compositions she’d never heard before. Soon it became a party. Beethoven. Chopin. Bach. Brahms. The afterlife’s greatest supergroup had found itself a living transcriber. On this episode of Tape Spaghetti, we kick off spooky season with the strange story of the woman who claimed she could communicate with history’s greatest, extremely dead, composers, and backed it up with reams of sheet music. It's easy enough to dismiss as a hoax, but serious musicologists could not make sense of how Brown, who was not an accomplished pianist or composer, could write music with eerily impressive similarities to that of the classical legends she claimed to communicate with. Was Rosemary Brown secretly way more talented than anyone realized? Was something phantasmagorical happening? And did Franz Liszt ever eat a banana? We don't know... but we're here to talk about it.
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