In the Frame

Admission

2011-10-30T11:29:00.004-05:00

I unashamedly adore Patrick Stewart.

When I was a kid, my dad and brother watched Star Trek Next G on a regular basis, and I remember being altogether bored with whatever was going on, mostly because if it didn't tell stories accompanied by a rousing singable melody, I didn't follow it. The exception to this was anything that involved Sir Patrick. I not only loved his voice--the patterns it made as he acted, the timbre, the range, content--but also thought that he was really cute.

Part of this reaction was some crazy movie watching code I strictly held to as a kid, one whole section of which was that you loved the good guy and hated the bad guy. However, I soon out that the voice put me in a difficult position on the love/hate scale, because if an actor had a good voice, I couldn't truly hate them as a bad guy, and I automatically loved them as a good guy. Patrick Stewart obviously falling on the good guy scale at the top--Capt. Picard being the comforting leader character with all the answers delivered in a delightfully dignified way. Alan Rickman in Quigley Down Under falling on the complete bad guy side. I knew I was supposed to hate him according to my code that was totally made up and of mysterious kid-type origins, but because his voice was... his voice, I couldn't hate him, and it gave me no end of identity crises.

Watching movies is serious business in our family. But I digress.

The other reason for the adoration of Patrick Stewart as a kid is that he was so cute. I remember thinking that if this is what men look like as they grow older, why on Earth do they complain about going bald? Seriously. It wasn't flattery, and I was confused for a number of years about it until I confronted my dad about it, who took it all in stride and gave a straight answer. God bless him. I have no conscious memory of this, but as a gangly 10-11ish year old looking around at equally gangly 10-11 year old, it doesn't seem that surprising to me that I thought Patrick Stewart so much cuter than boys my age.

Enough memory lane. I have recently been looking up Mr. Stewart, the internet being particularly handy for this, and I am even more impressed with him than I was as a kid. It's kind of fascinating, because seriously, who or what else can you say that you liked as a kid that is equally cool and impressive as an adult? And, yes, I still think he's really cute. In fact, that part's a little creepy, because, (it's not just me on this one), he looks almost unchanged since Next G. Check it out:

c. 1990

2011

Weird, right? Anyway, as an adult that can separate such things, I actually am more impressed with him as an actor than I was with him as a character. In every interview I see him in, or quote that I find of him, in every way he embodies dignity, grace, humility, and all those potentially ingratiating terms until you see him give it. Here's what he has to say about playing Picard:

"[I had a letter] from a Las Vegas police sergeant. He wasn't asking for anything, he just wrote and said how much the show meant to him, and that he loved his work but there were many times when it made him very low and very despairing about society. When that happens, I go home and watch The Next Generation and it restores my belief that the world will get better."*

also, unbelievably:

"When it first started, I didn't think that I would survive beyond the pilot. I did not unpack; I didn't see the point. I thought the producers would come to their senses and realize they'd made a grave error in casting me. I was certain that I'd be on my way back to London...Eventually, it became clear to me that not only wasn't I going to go away, the series wasn't going to go away. I stayed, and have relished every moment."*

Similar to this, in the "Star Trek: Captain's Summit," Stewart tells both these stories and explains how little he understood the Star Trek following when he took the role, but has been grateful for his inclusion in the club since then. Here's a clip:

Also, look at his list of movies he's been involved with:

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001772/

On that list? just in the last few years: Family Guy, Lego Universe, Gnomio and Juliet for crying out loud, TNMT, X-men, Bambi (a sequel, no less), Chicken Little--I mean, that an actor of this quality would agree to take roles like this at his age and fame, and even with his preference for theater, I can't help but be more impressed.

Ok, I will leave you on one last quote about having taken roles of both Star Trek's Picard and X-Men's Prof. Xavier:

"Having played many roles of scientific intellect I do have an empathy for that world. It's been hard on me because flying the Enterprise for seven years in Star Trek and sitting in Cerebro in X-men has led people to believe that I know what I'm talking about. But I'm still trying to work out how to operate the air conditioning unit on my car."*

How could you not love that?
(By the way, I'm watching Star Trek as I'm writing this. My inner geek is very happy.)

*all quotes from http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001772/bio#quotes

In Remembrance: Love and Grief

2011-02-21T20:48:00.004-06:00

A very good friend of mine died this weekend. A great man, husband, father, grandfather, and friend. I was not there, and I will not be able to go to the funeral to say goodbye, or to give the family my support. For me, there is no heavier loss than that. This is grief.

You know, I've noticed that this country does not allow for mourning anymore. To cry, to grieve, to mourn are seen as indecent behavior in our society. In fact, we almost don't even know what it is anymore to grieve, or how important it is. I noticed it when my grandparents died. When I mentioned it, people were embarrassed and hastened to change subjects away from people I loved and lost. Or worse, they would act as though death was an instantaneous act of letting go: "I'm sorry for your loss. Let them go, now, and move on."

The fact they are referred to as "lost" was always confusing to me: they aren't lost; I know exactly where they are, and the problem is that it's not here. Grieving is part of loving. It's not indecent and shouldn't be treated as such. The more you capacity you have to love, the more grief it produces in letting go. Someone I loved is referred to in past tense, and it rips my heart in pieces. You don't stop loving, but it's part of the process, and to shortchange it is disrespectful to those who now exist in memory.

My friend Bill was one of the most amazing people I ever had the honor to meet. I actually knew him better than I knew his sons that are my age. We talked, joked, laughed, attended the same church, participated in all sorts of town events, and I think of his family as an extension of my own. He was one of the few that embodied what it means to follow my religion, and only in knowing him better did I learn what it meant for me. I grieve for the inevitable heartache left behind in his absence; we are very selfish about death, you know. If I could have changed places with him, I would in a heartbeat. Then I wouldn't hurt this much. But it doesn't work like that, and he is not hurting anymore. What a relief that must be to experience. I know there is really nothing one can say or do to make the process easier, but at least to his family: know that you are not alone and many, many hearts/minds/prayers are with you today and forever.

"Goodnight, Mr. Bueermann--wherever you are."

"Crooked Sensibilities;" The First

2011-01-02T13:30:00.002-06:00

The first tune I ever wrote I heard one night and after digging it out of my ears, gave to my friend and teacher for his birthday--which is today as well, oddly enough. Weird. Anyway, I had thought to let him title it (since he's really good at it, and I'm terrible at it), but on his insistence, I started working out something that might hint at wit or at least not embarrass him...

Ahem, anyhow, what we landed on was "Richard's Ride," and it has a back story. It refers to the legend of an ancestor that was granted all the land he cross in a day while on the back of a bull. I'll save the crux of the story for himself, since he tells it better, but you get you get the idea. It seemed to fit since I was already giggling at the "crookedness" of the tune that I tried so hard to write squarely and evenly.

To my teacher on his birthday, and hopefully so he can get a kick out of it while en route to far away places:

Richards Ride.mp3

"Please, Sir..."

2010-12-27T15:39:00.002-06:00

Beautiful, but count the number of homeless in these pictures--how can we stand it?

BigPicture

I realize the importance and the need to have it, but I've never really liked money. It is only at this time of year that I wish I had more so I could give it away. if that makes sense...

Crochetin' A Storm, and Thinking of Beloved People

2010-12-24T19:03:00.000-06:00

So I went to my aunt's for Thanksgiving, and we did what we love to do: talk about crafts, play games, tease each other, have a grand 'ole time. One of the things all we women are really into is crocheting/knitting, of which I am really the least of the family, so when we get together it is always great fun to see what everyone is working on, and with, who they're going to give it or what they're making it for, etc., etc. I love it! This year my aunt sent us home with (or shipped because it ended up being too much for airplanes) a box of fun odds n' ends yarn. It's been like Christmas early, only we think of her every time we get it out and plan projects.

I've been making hats, because it's pretty, and there's just enough of most different types to make a hat and be done! It is such fun. I planned out everyone I thought might want one and still have extra! Which is a new thing for me. So I said what do I do with 'em if I don't have anybody to give it to? What's the fun in that? Half the fun of making something is the thought of them using/wearing it once you're done.

However, I was reminded this week as I wrapped my presents how many people go without in this world and realized what I had been missing: there are infinite people to make things for. I have spent the last few days looking for charities that give homemade things to people that need them, and it is so exciting--I want to just crochet forever now! Anyway, I'm including some of the sites I found:

Hats for the Homeless
Knit for Charities
Afghans for Afghans

and the metasites:

Daily Crocheter
Crochet and More

I'll include some pictures as soon as I've finished a few more of the hats.

"Crooked Sensibilities"

2010-12-15T23:03:00.001-06:00

So I'm going try something I've never done here before. This past Monday we hosted a ceili at our session pub (bar), and I, for the second time in my life, played one of my tunes that I've written. I feel silly (and more than a little embarrassed) doing it, but I've started sharing them with people because I think it gives them a laugh as well.

This is the second of about six that I tried very hard to put in perfect 4/4 time signature. You can tell how well it worked... By the way, I have given up trying to accomplish this. Anyhow, I wrote this one in memory of the ruined Connemara farms never repopulated from the famine era exodus. It remains one of the most moving images to me, and this tune was a first attempt to represent that in music. I don't know if it really worked, but here it is.

Unbidden Memory.mp3

below is one of the few images I took of the place itself (I couldn't photograph the farms; it seemed disrespectful):

Dhyāna Series: Photo 11

2010-12-15T22:39:00.003-06:00

I've never been much of one in front of the lens, but behind it, I find the meeting place of philosophy and meditation. I find this more valuable than I could say.

Dhyāna Series: Photo 10

2010-11-23T09:32:00.002-06:00

I have a love/hate relationship with Autumn. Impermanence, colors, changing of the seasons--Spring and Fall always seem like the environmental symbol of transience to me:

In a falling world
Blustering multitudes,
a single leaf.

Gratitude

2010-11-16T15:05:00.005-06:00

This is my director (very different from "dean" even if some of us still get those confused) running to raise money to restore our school pipe organ on this, the proclaimed "Save the Holtkamp Pipe Organ Day." I am so proud and grateful to be a part of anything having to do with this amazing person.

If you want to know more about this project, here is the facebook event you can see/join:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=160916093923961

or contact him directly:
http://www.depts.ttu.edu/music/SOM/WilliamBallenger.asp

One more for fun:

This is the photographer pretending to run in support of this fundraising effort. You can't see it, but the floor has become a blur, and the background keeps repeating itself. literally, as it's a room in my house.

Toughest Puppy Ever... or He Might Get Us Both Killed.

2010-11-14T23:23:00.000-06:00

Ok, so this is the story of how my beloved puppy (weighing in at a grand total of 7 pounds while standing all of 6" off the ground) managed to totally piss off the dog down the way that is nearly three times his size and at least that in weight. [aside: no one was hurt in the course of these events, because if they did, the author would not be here to relate it and the author's mother--given the current level of fear of dogs anyway--would be forced to become a hermitic house-troll, which is a shame because she's really fun to be around.]

Now, my little (barely) 8 month old puppy is, of course, very tough and overly fond of bravely "protecting" me. At least in our own yard. surrounded by fences. and with me watching. (Sometimes tough puppies also have run back really quickly and prove their toughness from "someone's" lap, but that is just so no one sneaks up on you; it's, ahem, for your protection only.) This is the puppy I'm describing. By the way, Dachshunds have this quirky need to have the last word as well.

Anyhow, this puppy decided to pick a tough talk fight with the big dogs a few doors down--nothing new, just go outside and have a mean mouth contest and go about business. Except that this day, my Little Man says something too far... and then can't stop himself--must have last word, so this is a little how it went:

Little Man: wuf.

crazy psycho dog across the way: BARKBARKBARKBARKYAPholyfreakingcow,gonnabustyourlightsoutBARKBARKBARKBARKBARK... bark bark. bark.

LM: woof.

Psycho dog: redoubled barking in volume and rate.

LM: [looks back through the fence mildly interested until the pause] wuf.

PD: now has a hernia and is at risk for heart attack... just kidding. sort of.

But he did get more and more pissed off with each repetition (not that it's not annoying as hell, by the way, when it's you Dachshunds do this to, so I completely understand, but still). He starts pawing the ground and kicking up dirt with his back feet, and hitting "that range" in the bark, and I moved from absentminded, "no, Baby, we don't bark at people in their own yards" to saying, "um, Coop... Let the wookie win."

"woof."

and dog down the way started doing his best to leap, climb, scale--anything to get through the fence at us, and finally made it to the neighbor's yard before my little hero decided discretion was indeed (finally) the better part of valor, and maybe we should go inside. I was totally with him, and we did. with one last:

"woof."

Little stubborn shit, I swear... and the poor dog and my Little Man still exchange words when they're out together; neither one can stand to let the other win, I guess. It's a good thing lessons in life come up like this so we can learn from them... I no longer go with him.

TXTNG S RUENING R CiVLiZaTiOn... Rant

2010-11-04T13:52:00.000-05:00

Ok, I do understand the usefulness of shorthand and have in fact developed my own; it looks a little like this:

I developed it my first year of college when I realized that I wrote at speeds rivaling many caffeinated snails and that writing for hours a day made my hands too sore to play music or paint/draw. The method itself works for two reasons: 1) the human brain is an amazing information processor that can understand the whole without all the details and 2) because I am fortunate to possess a high level of aural memory, and I wrote it, I have the original dialogue running in my head at the same time. Even with experience of this brilliant method, and a little formal training in medieval abbreviation (oh yeah, see how that was spelled correctly??), I cannot figure out what the hell people mean when they write in text language. I do understand that omitting parts of speech or insignificant letters is a time-saving mechanism while texting in an informal setting, I read emails, submitted assignments, facebook statuses, and entire blog posts written in this type of hieroglyphic.

Here follows an example, copied and pasted from the source: (minus names)
"Btw ____ u dont have to explained tat ya r already happy cuz i already kw ya guys are happy lol n i kw how how it is when ur guy wk a lot n no date in a while cuz ____ used to wk night shit or all day n on call even days off"

One more, from my university inbox: (before anyone asks, this wasn't from any of my freshmen kids; this was from a fellow grad student)

"i missd class was their ne thing important that i need to kw thx, ______"

My thoughts on the topic:

"Kthxbai" was coined by a website dedicated to mocking animals' inability to type in proper English.
(it's even missing a freaking nasal consonant--how does that work?? Don't tell me it's syncopation, because it isn't even followed by a liquid or subsequent syllables with a/u/o to drop)

"Fail" is a verb, either auxiliary or main depending on the context, whereas
"epic" is actually a noun, referring to poetic form and content.
"like" can be any form of speech but the way it's most used now, meaning either a verb or, like, an audible pause. We have punctuation in written speech for the exact purpose that it is supposed to represent a silence. (by the way, I have used all three of these at different times, so I know, and I am consciously cutting them out of my vocabulary)

U/R/Y/B/C/K are letters that have been incorporated into the visual transmission of the English language (as far back as freaking Beowulf) by mixing with other similar symbols to form words and were not intended to stand alone. This method, therefore, would be unlike pictorial or calligraphic languages that make use of independent characters and/or diacritical marks to indicate/differentiate words.

Sentences are differentiated from one another by certain grammatical symbols that indicate the type of speech communicated: i.e. periods, exclamation points, question marks, semi-colons, and ellipses. (Please end a sentence with a preposition; then, at least, it is providing a formulaic--in recent years anyway--ending that I can recognize. Besides, it's functioning as an adverb in that instance anyway.) Along with this, subordinate clauses, conjunctions, lists, and to some degree rhetorically emphasized sections, are delineated by colons, commas, and ampersands.

Spelling is more than just something with which to torture kids at school.

Books are physical, bound objects one carries around that are made of varying types of wood pulp, ink, glue, and thread. (Also, "as the page turns" does not refer to the length of time it takes a webpage to load...)

Language is beautiful, can be used efficiently by anyone in any social circumstance, and should not be shortchanged because of time or convenience, especially since so much else in our society is. It is difficult, and I struggle with it myself, but it remains infinitely worth the effort. I will leave you with an excerpt from someone as linguistically cynical as I am, spoken almost half a century ago:

Dhyāna Series: Photo 9

2010-11-02T12:00:00.000-05:00

I haven't been feeling very peaceful lately, so this actually the anti-dhyāna, or "what not to look for" post. or in other words: chaos.

From the concert recently that I had the opportunity to photograph, and I guess my tripod tipped during the capture. You can just distinguish the faces through the "fire," but I actually thought this was the coolest photo I took. It so perfectly captured my frustration, not associated with the concert or anyone in it, just life.

Last night at session, I said to Sensei, referring to recent experience, "that must've been your personal version of hell." He responded, "It certainly had some purgatorial qualities."

I think mine would have to be the doctor's office with all the crooked picture frames. (I do mean all, and this is including frame, mat, and picture alike... gah.)

Dhyāna Series: Photo 8

2010-10-19T22:39:00.002-05:00

Haven't done one of these in a while... sorry.

This is my companion, my sweet baby, my conscience, and my life. He tells me to stop worrying; he tells me when I need to stop working and when to go back; he lets me know that life is wonderful just to have a squeaky toy and a yard to play in;

I am remarkably grateful for him.

He is also the world-champion sleeper...

Peter Horan, 1926-2010: He Will Be Missed

2010-10-17T10:08:00.007-05:00

Treasuring my second night, locked in an after-hours pub session, in Ireland more than ever today with the loss of a good man, fiddle, and flute player:

http://www.mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=132877&messages=2

Thanks for the memories.

Professional Courtesy

2010-10-13T13:48:00.002-05:00

Rather than adapting formerly 80 min. lectures into our 50 min. restraints, our professor instead holds us longer as the semester progresses and subject matter increases difficulty (thereby invalidating technique of "just speaking faster). I find, the more that I have to adapt my own research and presentations to various time/space restraints, that I have a harder time not being offended by this behavior.

I'm not sure what to comment as yet, because I am interested in the topic, and more importantly, have never had the opportunity to experience this myself as a teacher. I'm sure one's perspective is bound to change in that instance. However, currently, it just seems courteous as a professional to respect the students' time and keep to the time restrictions prescribed for a semester. The opposite if you don't.

Opposites; Experience; Focus

2010-10-05T15:02:00.004-05:00

Working on my first research poster for upcoming poster session. This is an interesting quandary for me, because since it's a part of my thesis and the section I've spent the most time on, the most work articulating, and the most work researching (to date), I'm prepared in the content department. I should clarify that and say that I feel more prepared currently than I have ever been before a presentation of any kind. in content. Then again, every other research presentation I've given has followed one of two formats: outline/reading text given orally with accompanying powerpoint slide show, or the same substituting some portion with a relevant performance element.

I didn't even know what a poster session was until I was asked recently to participate in one (in response to multiple submissions of the same topic). If I was to break down my conceptualization of a research presentation into the "need to know" basics, I'd say these included content, outline, supplementary materials, and timing. You stand up and talk for 20 minutes, with or without sound/video files or live performances. From what I understand, these elements in a poster session break down somewhat differently into content, design, print-out, and bullet-point discussion.

Every presentation of research will focus on content--that's the point--but it will be tailored to fit the audience, circumstance, and format of delivery. Talking uninterrupted for a period requires different level of verbiage and organization than an aurally-supplemented visual layout will. Also, the complete paper presentation is the actual presentation. All visual elements are really supplementary, thus dependent upon the aural element, and this format is the complete opposite. I will admit that that's the part most intimidating for me. Also, in this format, the complete version is printed, mounted, and static on a poster; what you say elaborates what's (theoretically) already present. This part really blows my mind. It all has to be there, and you just fill in the gaps. It is also suggested that you avoid text in favor of graphics (in this case, meaning raw data, e.g. charts, graphs, etc.) Avoid text??? wow... not saying it's not a good exercise/skill to have, but just: wow.

I'm a little better with the bullet-point, or as my teacher says, "talking points." They can come up at any time in the conversation, as in the order doesn't matter, but you lead the topics around to discussing what you know you want covered. I have watched both him and my advisor do this for years in the most eloquent examples of both classroom discussions and in radio programs. I'm kind of enjoying coming up with this part, except that I don't really know what to expect. It's provided me a lot to think about, certainly, and I think on the whole I find it positive (intriguing), rather than negative (stressful). That's a big deal for me, compared with my first experience presenting a research project which was, again, the opposite.

I'm fascinated by this experience, but have reached a place of standstill--hence the blog post to loosen up, but now back to the grindstone, despite the perfectness of the day... I'm sure there will be more to report as things develop.

"New Tune"

2010-10-02T20:04:00.002-05:00

I have been playing Irish traditional music for almost 8 years now. I love it. For years, I was the annoying kid with the napkin "list" of tunes to learn and would hound anybody for a name or time to learn it. (Have I mentioned how grateful I am to the poor people that have to teach me??) I carried 'the List' around with me until my (then) dog chewed up the first half, and I admitted that I couldn't remember the names of most of them anyway... For me then, a "new tune" was a wonderful little jewel that I found/learned and looked at, turned in my hand, learned it by heart, and kept it in a bag in my memory. I still can't help feeling that way, actually, about tunes that people play, or I hear on recordings.

However, more and more often my "new tunes" are little diddles that I've come up with. It is such fun. I hate to say that what I'm doing is "writing" them, (though I say it for brevity's sake), but after the first few I figured were pretty safe to say that I at least am the first to play them. (One of these reasons being that I apparently can't create a 4 beat measure/4 bar phrase to save my life, though it's both the meter and the model I'm using.) They're like little melodic puzzles, and geekily enough, theory exercises, that I hear my instrument playing. The more I do it, the more fascinating and addictive it gets. I don't think I'd rate them with any of the other tune writers I know, but it's become my "weekend off" activity.

Hang with the dogs, swap witticisms with the roommate, and find a new tune. In honor of the season and level of humor, this week's was an exercise in tonality and modulation with melodically-implied chord structure.

fun.

Worry Box

2010-09-30T08:22:00.003-05:00

My kids have their first test tomorrow. I worry that they didn't pay close enough attention; that they didn't take good enough notes; that they might've had questions, but were too afraid to ask--(by the way, did you know that I am scary?? Go figure...); that I didn't answer something sufficiently when they did ask... I know that the answer is not in my hands, there's only so much you can do, and 'at some point you just gotta let 'em learn what those wings are for.' (puh-lease)

I just love my kids.

There's a great short-story author that I grew up on named Patrick McManus that had as one of his title pieces, "The Worry Box." The theory being that everyone has one, of different sizes, but always full and relative to the size of the worry. E.g., it might only be full of one worry (that has crowded all the others), but it's a big one - "THE CHECKBOOK... etc., etc." I am a big proponent of this theory, perhaps being that I was raised by champion worriers, but that's another story. I love that my worry box is full with other people. It makes me happy, as paradoxical as that is. I have people to worry for.

(have I mentioned that a number of my friends, teachers, and teacher-friends have started riding bikes? on some of the most unfriendly-to-bike streets I've seen...)

lots of prayer going on; I love that, too.

"Better Safe Than Sorry:" A Gastronomical Cliché

2010-09-29T13:54:00.006-05:00

you know, I've never really understood the term "comfort food." The concept of a "foodie" was explained to me a few years ago, and I'm still working on the relation to that one. I've known for years that I come from a family of (and am a classic example of) some of the most picky eaters I think I've ever met. In my case, I have worked hard to not be so, because there are too many things out in this world to experience (and wayyyy too many feelings to be hurt, especially in the area of food) to be bogged down in "I don't like it." In some areas, I can proudly say, though not to my credit at all--and a massive shout out here to Mr. Thomas Seaquist...--that I have in fact come to love a wide(r) range of food than I ever would have imagined I could have.

That being said, I am still a terribly picky eater. The way I see it, there are two kinds of picky eaters: the hyper-sensitives and the overly imaginatives. Translation: those with a seemingly heightened awareness and perception of what they are eating, so that only the best combinations of things are "good," and those that have a really good, some might say "overactive," imagination, so that they talk themselves into imagining various foods in certain ways that cannot then be consumed--(raisins &etc., however beneficially flavorful, will always look like bugs to me.) If there was any doubt as to which category I fall in, that last should resolve it. Imagination has always been my weakness in many areas of my life, but that is a post to itself. I have also noticed that often "textural" eaters, those that have a problem eating substances based on texture alone, are predisposed to be in the imagination category as well, and I find that very interesting. Texture is also one of those things that more than nearly any other food issue is the hardest to overcome. ahem, I might know a little about that, too...

Despite the direction this post is taking, I actually eat a lot. It's not varied much, and it's not very exciting, but I do eat quite a bit. even though I am a bit prone to forgetting it once I've made it, but that's the effect of being an utter space cadet as well. What has brought my attention to it most recently are the discussions I've listened to or participated in on wastefulness and "cootie" fear. I know (and am related to) some people who will do anything rather than throw out food, and I wholeheartedly agree, intellectually. Until it comes to the point where something of questionable age comes into question, or, as I'm dealing with now: reintroducing food after being a bit sick. I become extremely hesitant at all points, and it has confused me to no end for years. I, as the worst liar known to man, am actually reducing myself to lip-service on something??? Ugh... makes me sick all over again. However, (since I've had quite a bit of time to think on it lately), I think I now understand.

First of all, I'm not alone in this; many of the picky eaters I've watched lately, I find to be in the same boat. I no longer believe it to be lip-service. I simply think for some of us, it is that we can't risk losing something that we actually like, because there's not that much to begin with, and therefore losing anything means a substantial dip in the available variety. It wasn't until I considered eating again (this morning...) and actually went so far as to get breakfast, but then proceeded to carry it around with me all morning with the thought, "I like this--what if it makes me sick all over again? Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness..." that it occurred to me what so many of us might be doing on a regular basis. "Better safe than sorry" ensures that we can still stand to eat, rather than face the horror of liking new things.

I also think about this a lot as I am doing research on a new diet plan that cuts out one of those areas for me: gluten. As I know more and begin to implement it, I'd like to create a discussion thread that covers it. I'm sure there are a lot of people going through similar things that something like that might help. Sure would me, and I can't find it... so, rule #2:

if it's not there, create it.

A Ghrá Mo Chroí

2010-09-26T11:13:00.002-05:00

We are starting our new program in the university's Celtic ensemble tonight, and I cannot wait. All of them have been really great programs with fabulous material, great attitudes, and rocking arrangements, but this one in particular is close to my heart in a way few things can be. It's an Irish program--some of my favorite songs from some of my favorite bands.

It's always interesting to me when new people find their way into a new tradition like this. I have been teaching this music almost as long as I've been playing it (for better or worse) to fellow fiddle players, or not. More than anything I hear when describing a stylistic or idiomatic technique is, "Gee, that's harder than it looks!" It is unfortunate for me that I don't possess the technically terminology (that would probably make things like this easier), but for this reason I have spent as much effort trying to find ways to explain the differences in style to (mostly) classically trained musicians as I have spent trying to master the damn style myself. I also have to include singing and language in this list, especially as it applies most strongly to our new program, and as most of the Irish language skills I've learned have come from listening very closely and figuring pronunciation/grammar rules from song lyrics. I know how six different internationally known band singers say the phrase "a ghrá mo chroí," and they are all different.

It is very easy for those of us who have dedicated ourselves to a style or tradition to be offended when people new or outside the tradition say, "Gee, that's hard," in response to the results of our hard work. What we have to remember is that that's not what they meant. It's actually a compliment: you just made it look natural and easy enough to pick up on the spot. It also meant that you communicated something to them that made them want to. I think this is a crucial thought to remember. What they have to remember is that (I, at least, who had quite a learning curve for Irish anything) we spent years listening over and over again with the kind of crazed attention to recordings/live people that stalker fans give to movie stars. Then we spent years frustratingly trying to match it without sucking, and finally polishing within ourselves and own personal styles, not to mention any effort spent to teaching others how to do it. I might mention that those of with a habit of falling into a Texas accent also have a different type of hurdle to overcome with language. I thought I would dedicate the rest of this post to techniques that I have learned that help (let's face it) non-speakers and particularly Texans sing in Irish, but really this can be applied to any.

First of all, with any new style, song, sound, language, etc., you have to listen. A lot. I have listened to this woman sing this song:

for almost 8 years now, with periods of months where I listened to little else, but instead playing it over and over again to hear every microscopic sound change she made in the different versions of the recordings I could find. Now, some people will say that you should always learn lyrics (meaning actual words in a different language)/translations alongside melody/pronunciation, and in theory, I completely agree with this. However, for me, with very new/different languages, I have found that I get no where without the sound in my head. If I can get the sound in my head, it is a short step to meaning and then understanding. I usually get it in my head first, then sit with the translations side-by-side with lyrics fully written out (wouldn't suggest using phoneticized versions, which I will explain).

The next step (for me) is lyrics and translations, which I believe to be inseparable. This is because if you don't know what you're saying, there's no way the audience will. You might as well be singing nonsense syllables, because honestly, that's all you're really doing anyway. For that reason and one other having to do with enculturated associations in written pronunciation, I personally find phonetic spellings harder to overcome than the effort is worth. It's tempting, because it's safe, and you would think saves time, but then in my experience, I spend equal if not more time working out of those associations than it would have to just side step them. What I mean by these associations most especially for Texans are regional diphthongs and word placement. Word placement is simple: in phonetic versions, I don't have a clue where words begin and end, thus "creating" them in my head. You can see the problem there.

Diphthongs are actually easier to subvert, but much harder to erase, and much more prevalent. For example, I saw a pronunciation guide that said this, "á is pronounced as in English word "drawl."" Ok, I'm sure this author meant that it is comparable to the sound "ah," but for me, especially on the word 'drawl,' I hear all the notated vowel sounds possible plus 5 that aren't, and have been trying to block this association out for the past 48 hours so that every time I see 'á,' it doesn't add upwards of 30 seconds to the syllable. You see how effective it's been. These sounds are the hardest thing for me to overcome, and I nearly can't do it at all if I have them imprinted in my head when I'm learning it, even if I move off it later. If I have to do phonetic versions, which are perfectly legitimate, easier for some people to use, and I have done many of them, I use Latin pronunciation techniques that I find are just different enough me to sidestep some of those palatal associations many people aren't aware of anyway, but just close enough to still find it useful. but get off 'em quick. The lyrics/translation for the above song that I used looks like this; I didn't make a phonetic version:

A Pheigin mo chara is a Pheigin mo chroi
Ce he an fear fada ud timpeall an ti
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheigin mo chroi

Peigin, my friend, and Peigin, my heart
Who is that tall man __?
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, oh Peigin, my heart

A Pheadar mo chara is a Pheadar mo chroi
Sin e do mhaicin nach bhfaca tu riamh
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheadar mo chroi

Peadar, my friend, and Peadar, my heart
That is your baby whom you never saw
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, oh Peigin, my heart

Shuil mise thoir agus shuil mise thiar
Is feasog ar leanbh ni fhaca me riamh
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheigin mo chroi

I walked east and I walked west
But a beard on a baby I have never before seen
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, oh Peigin, my heart

A Pheadar mo chara is a Pheadar mo chroi
Eirigh do sheasamh 'gus reitigh greim bia
O ho a Pheadar mo chroi
A Pheigin mo chara is a Pheigin mo chroi
Nil ins an teach ach aon greim mine bui
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheigin mo chroi

Peadar, my friend, and Peadar, my heart
Rise up now and prepare some food
Oh ho Peadar, my heart
Peigin, my friend, and Peigin, my heart
I have not a grain of yellow meal in the house
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, oh Peigin, my heart

A Pheadar mo chara is a Pheadar mo chroi
In iochtar mo mhala ta caca mine bui
O ho a Pheadar mo chroi
A Pheigin mo chara is a Pheigin mo chroi
Ta an caca seo ro fada nil in aon chaoi bui
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheigin mo chroi

Peadar, my friend, and Peadar, my heart
In the bottom of my bag there is a yellow meal cake
Oh ho Peadar, my heart
Peigin, my friend, and Peigin, my heart
This cake you have is full of golden guineas
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, oh Peigin, my heart

'S a Pheadar mo chara, suifimis sios
Na fagfas an baile chomh 's mhairfeas me riamh
O ho a Pheadar mo chroi Oh ho Peadar, my heart
A Pheigin mo chara is a Pheigin mo chroi
Ce he an fear fada timpeall an ti

Peadar, my friend, we will sit down
I'll never leave home again for as long as I live
Peigin, my friend, and Peigin, my heart
Who is that tall man __?

O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheigin
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a Pheigin
O ho o hi ho ha
O hi ho, a ghra geal mo chroi

O hi ho, Peigin
O hi ho, oh bright love of my heart

One of the next things I do that is equally hard, but means the difference between night and day in performance, is imprint meaning in the words. You're not just learning the English translations; it has to mean something. Many of these songs tell a story with a particular feeling, mood, affect, and it is your job as the transmitter of this story to know both of those, but also to feel them and convey them to those hearing it. I was taught to do this two ways: first, boil the whole thing down to a few adjectives (or nouns or phrases) that define the mood and meaning of the story, i.e. grief, longing, beauty, hope, etc.; and secondly, know the meaning well enough to think it in English while you're singing in Irish. I actually try to sing it with the recording in English over the original singer in Irish. It's hard as shit to do, but pays off. The point of this is not to make it hard or to be hard ass about it, but it means the difference between memorizing something and internalizing it. You, for that 3.5 minutes or whatever, are embodying this story with melody and rhythm to a group of people that (one actually hopes) doesn't speak it.

The last thing I do before coming in to perform it, even in rehearsal, is learn to speak the words without the melody or associated rhythm, but simply declaiming. It's also harder than it seems if you learned it with melody attached. It's also incredibly hard those like me that are aural learners. I used to say 'impossible,' but I have since eaten those words. What helps this is to spend time with the chunks of lyrics, like those above, learning to "see" them in your merely as words without the color of the melody with it. Something else that helps me in this step is to analyze the text as much as possible--figure out grammar points, discover which word is actually which word in a given line, compare the usage here with the usage there and how they differ, etc.

As you can no doubt tell, this kind of learning is fascinating to me. Microscopic listening and observing is something I can honestly say that I am good at, and I have also found little more satisfying than singing in Irish. It is beautiful in a way few other languages are. Inherently rhythmic, melodic, poetic, witty and elegant at the same time, and of course, different with nearly every person. I adore it. New repertoire to perform is always really exciting, but I'm counting hours until we can rehearse this program; even as well as I know some of it, there is a never-ending stream of things to learn and enjoy in the learning. It is also wonderful to watch new sparks of interest in people who have never had it before when they learn it.

Isn't it time yet??? ...

Desperate Battles

2010-09-25T10:18:00.003-05:00

I love what I do, and more so every day. Teaching, performing, listening, learning, writing - I love it all. I am entirely captivated by the class I assist and my unique position in it. I am the go-between, neither teacher nor student. I am free to observe fully both parties, and I stand amazed at the opportunity. The interim between classes is really not long enough to consider, to think, to philosophize about all that goes on in the one little hour of class. I want to know. I want to know why kid A moves from the front row to the back row all of a sudden three weeks in--was it a grade; was it life events; was it workload catching up? Is he checking out for whatever reason?-- or why kid B, rather than checking out, has never checked in?

We had a fabulous interactive talk/discussion yesterday from guest teacher on African diaspora, different musical priorities, retentions held over from that influence, and how we learn from that, and this kid never engaged for any of it. It poses for me an interesting philosophical quandary. There are many areas in which I am remarkably average--no, actually, not even that: averagely average if not less so. I'm ok with that; it has given me a lot of resources to drawn upon when dealing with other people and preventing potential problems. I had to work my ass off, but I went through this same class a lifetime ago and enjoyed the hell out of it. The quandary is that as hard of a time as I had at times--understanding, catching up, following discussions, not panicking on tests/assignments--I have never considered the possibility of doing less than my hardest. Try. It sounds a little pious on paper, I suppose, but I don't mean it that way. I'm really slow at a lot of things, and I have still always wanted to know. The one thing I really can't even begin to understand is the attitude that doesn't. How can you want this life, but not be willing to engage in it?

'Blowing off' was a new concept I learned in pedagogical discussions. However, I still have step into their shoes. I am developing a grading/disciplining philosophy around the saying, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a desperate battle." Life happens, and we who stand in the front are almost entirely out of context with what is going in the individual lives of those sitting around the room. Everyone screws up, but I am making my best effort in it. I love these kids. I only wish there was more that I could do for them. but I have time yet, and I'm still thinking. The two areas that I excel at are memory and awareness, and I use it to the best that I can to learn about them. Kid B is interested in something, and he/she will check in at some point, if not in my class, then somewhere along the way, and I will watch to see when/what it is. We can only benefit from the learning, and one thing I do know about teaching is if it happens to one, it is guaranteed to happen to more.

If I haven't said it lately, I am remarkably grateful for the experience. Gassho, teacher-friends.

"Now I'm afraid..."

2010-09-15T15:25:00.004-05:00

After only 8 meetings across a total of 3 weeks, emails and daily announcements, I play an instrument (badly, by the way) for them in class, and I get stopped multiple times in the hall with various iterations of "Hey, uh... you're in my class!!" Yes, yes I am. I am one of two that stand up every period, answer your emails, and am responsible for your grades.

I am now more worried in ways I thought obsolete with this particular class.

Dhyāna Series: Photo 7

2010-09-09T15:46:00.003-05:00

I am a TA for first time this semester, and I am beyond grateful every time I walk into the classroom or sit down to grade ninety-one assignments. I love hearing their hopes and dreams, their likes and dislikes, and lending a hand to address their concerns if I am able. (I do also on occasion feel like having oxygen handy wouldn't be a bad idea either, but ...)

I love it. and these kids. and I wouldn't do anything else for the world.

(also, loved finding out today that some old pop culture references, random though they might be, are still present in today's youth. Well, beyond old movie junkies like me, that is. "'We are all out of cornflakes - FU.' Took me 3 hours to figure out "FU" meant "Felix Unger.")

Dhyāna Series: Photo 6

2010-08-25T22:28:00.002-05:00

Representing my two favorite times of day: rise and set. There is so much thought that can be applied to that image: beginning and end, circle of time/life, presence of mind, "nowness," impermanence, reflection and reality, awareness. It is a quiet more beautiful than silence for me and one time (either early or late, but both if possible) I reserve to appreciate in its wonder.

On Advice: A Role Reversal

2010-08-24T13:55:00.003-05:00

I have more than a few views on advice, having been given everything from career guidance--my "independence is really a draw-back for musicians" according to one source--to the way that I fold clothes... um, hello. Anyway, I do actually listen very closely to advice, asked or given, because there's only so much experience that we will ever individually gain and more insight can only increase that amount. However, I have almost always been on the receiving end of such matters, and I also have a remarkable ability (believe it or not) to compartmentalize emotions and reality. Translated: I am mostly able step out of a given situation and think logically about a situation. Then again, that sounds really nice on paper...

I have recently found myself in the giving of advice position, which is not only disconcerting and surreal, but a little frightening. Most personal and therefore totally scary example is advising a fellow music-lover and dancer potentially down the road to the Art building. I am immediately hit with a decision, because I have seen the effect advice can have on people: for or against, and it's ****ing terrifying. partially because I have a very good, well practiced imagination, and I imagine this beautiful, hopeful person making all the mistakes I did and having the same negative experiences I did... and etc. Now, I love art. I love photography. I love most things and people about our art department. My experience as an art major is incredibly valuable to me; I wouldn't change it for the world. It changed the way I see the world, the way I experience and make music, and the way I relate and define the word "art." However, I am well aware of the effect my experiential frame might have and how to phrase it. Talk 'em into it, or out of it?

Caught up in the moment of framing the other side of this role, I am reminded, "into or out of," that's not my job. I don't try to do either. All my job is as someone with experience here and now is to present the truth. It is not scary to present truth, and it is also easier than one might expect to leave off spin and stay neutral when that's the goal. Our art building and the world of art itself is the way it is:

It is very competitive, centers a lot around bureaucracies and "who you know," and sadly, it does prize demoralization as a key to the subconscious. This demoralization conviction is emphasized more and less in different media departments, but as it's been a factor for several centuries, it's rather deeply rooted and is what drove me away. I refuse to say that it's not important or stupid or idiotic because that puts a judgemental frame on it that is unnecessary. It is simply one way of being, a choice.

but not mine.

I chose ceramics because it was the media of all I came in contact with that not only required people to work together (sharing materials, kilns, etc.), but made them take the time to really get to know one another (there's not a lot to do during a firing but talk). Then again, that's just me and my preferences. All I want to provide for someone seeking advice is the awareness of those factors and the ability to leave the choice that is or should be ultimately theirs, actually up to them.

Art is also a hard road. I can't pretend that it's not and hope to be representing truth anymore than I can say it won't be discouraging. More galleries and shows will reject your work than accept, (and you will be told to take it personally as it drives your art.) You will have to work your way up the name recognition ladder, learn to speak in democratic language, and function at all hours of days and nights. It will also be expensive. I have yet to find a medium that does not require a constant influx of tools and materials. It's the nature of putting results into a tangible product: to create a thing, one must have stuff, and the right tool may mean the difference between frustration and expression. All of these things mean a substantial commitment for any wanting "in." and for those of us terrible at decisions... gah.

Does it change the way you see the world?
It can if you let it.
Is it worth the effort?
You reap what you sew. As for me, you bet your buns it does.
Should you do it?
Not my decision; I am merely a resource to facilitate it...if you want it.

Dhyāna Series: Photo 5

2010-08-24T06:55:00.002-05:00

Haven't posted one of these in a while. Life tends to fast forward at the end of the summer. As school begins, I want to get back on a regular rhythm and positive thoughts and peaceful situations need to be a part of it.

I had the wonderful opportunity of experiencing New England for the first time. Lived on the water among the trees and played music all day long with great people who felt the same. As summer fades and academic-related stress begins yet again, I hold this moment in my mind. Scenery might be different, water might be missing, but the people are just as loved.

Frame.
Focus.
*click*

Traveling In the Modern Period, or Why Medieval Musicians Walked

2010-08-22T18:23:00.002-05:00

excerpt from a piece of the ridiculousness dealt with in the Memphis airport this afternoon:

airport employee hereafter known as Frankenbitch (or FB): "Oh, you have two instruments? Well, the soft case can go on with you, but the hard case has to go on the cart."

me: "Cart? Where is that going?"
FB: "It's going on the plane."
me: "Well, if it's going on the plane anyway, I'd like to keep it with me."
FB: "Oh no, it has to go in the cargo hold under the plane; it's a hard case."
me: "No. I'm sorry, but it can't go under the plane."
FB: "It's in a hard case."
me: "uh... I know, but this is my livelihood--"
FB: "I understand that, but it's [now speaks slower; that's good: just in case she missed it the first time, repeating it exactly in a decelerated rhythm will certainly make it more clear] "in a hard. case."
me: "This case protects it from being smashed in an overhead bin considering that it's three pieces of thin wood; that doesn't change the fact that it's still pressure/temperature sensitive."
FB: "In a hard case?"
me: [thinking]Yes, you moron, the almost inevitable result of this phenomenally bad idea would be exactly what musicians spend their lives warding against, and that's changes over a span seasons rather than a span of seconds, and you want to convince me a thin piece of cheap plastic covering it will make it ****ing ok???
[actually said] "yes ma'am, but if this instrument is ruined because of this desicion, It's not a situation where I can just send resumes out to other orchestras to be hired elsewhere. I do believe that you are trained to deal with these situations, [yeah, right] so will leave it up to you." [also bullshit, but faith and responsibility scare people]
FB: "I will speak to the captain about it."

turned out fine.
but I was prepared to get off.

Now, a clarification to this story: there are hard cases for instruments that are air-tight and do protect from temperature and limited pressure changes, and there are more protective accessories that help stabilize even more. However, mine doesn't fall into any of those categories or features. It doesn't even close entirely. (noted that this is not an advisable thing for anyone much less one intending to become a professional, but management is working on it...) Just because the case is "hard" does not automatically determine that it can be sent into space without a suit and come back still breathing.

Also, I do have a very good grasp of not only the English language, but also how very little people really realize what can effect an instrument and how very delicate they are. I promise I get it. However, I have a theory that many people who aren't musicians don't fully realize what it means for someone to rely on these delicate pieces of wood for their job. With many people, jobs lost, or ruined, are replaced by spending some effort applying, interviewing, etc., but they carry all their essential skills to do the job properly with them without thought. In the case of instrumentalists, this is not the case. I couldn't just show up and sing my part if my violin was massacred by the airline. (Well, I could, but that would require being hired for a different job: different skill set, different function). Needless to say, we musicians tend to be a little touchy about what happens to the damn things; gotta tell you, that was the most stressful 10 minutes out of my life, handing my livelihood to someone who has no clue how to treat it.

The fact is these poor people are not trained in how to deal with either musicians or their instruments. They are simply trying to handle everyone's problem as efficiently and time/space considerately as possible.

What we have to do is "audience education" in a non-threatening (difficult) manner from which they can learn what not to do next time (more difficult) and that effect behavior for immediate satifaction in both parties (nigh on impossible; just kidding). However, as taught by my mentors: never promise what you can't/won't keep, don't throw everything at once--you can ramp up but not down, and always, always have a back-up plan. As stated, I was prepared, if all else failed, to walk off that plane and figure it out from there, but I know people, and if one thing has been pushed in this country in recent years, it is to avoid responsibility as much as possible. I am immensely grateful that I didn't have to, but I would have walked off if I had lost the battle. I could have been stubborn and ornery and uncooperative (I have all in spades), but nothing would have been accomplished but a lot frustration. I know from experience.

This is trying something new.
with a rant session now and then...

Dhyāna Series: Photo 4

2010-07-05T11:17:00.002-05:00

Discover the power of your own house and experience the joy of having beloved people over to cook for, play music, have conversation, overcome politeness: that is a valuable kind of peace.

Dhyāna Series: Photo 3

2010-07-03T21:24:00.003-05:00

The next door neighbors here have great joy in their yard. Their backyard is a jungle of all kinds of plants from this grape vine to palm trees to roses to "beautiful, but invasive ground-cover" gardened by those that obviously love each and every one. They care about the fate of a small plant's life, health, and prosperity. That, to me, is worthy of note.

Dhyāna Series: Introduction

2010-07-02T22:34:00.005-05:00

There is a great deal going on in the world, and close to home that I (alone) can do very little about as a (currently) unemployed grad student but that disturbs me greatly. This is a series of photos that I am beginning in a centering effort to do something, hopefully a little more toward peace and order in a world more and more of chaos and hate.

(do feel free to correct cultural/informational/any inaccuracies as I am a grasshopper in this) In Sanskrit, Dhyāna ध्यान, is a root word for varying forms of meditation, positive/negative and modified/traditional. A lovely article by Shinzen Young sums up Patanjali's three levels of concentration as:

Dhāranā: Attention wanders from the object and is brought back over and over again.

Dhyāna: Attention on the object is effortless and continuous like an unbroken stream of oil.

Samādhi: Attention is so complete that the yogi becomes the object!

Some of this hits a little too close for comfort in a number of ways. However, in one small way I offer as much as one photog can in this series of increasingly horrible events unfolding in our world. We may not be able to undo what we've done, and how many of us feel more and more agitated at the inability to effect change? Positive thinking is one thing. Prayer another. little as it may be or do universally, please accept a moment of peace and stillness as a reminder for ourselves. These are the first two photos I have designated in this series, and hopefully, the first of many:

gassho and love to you all.

"In the Frame"

2010-06-23T13:46:00.002-05:00

I've thought about it for a while and find myself more and more looking at the teaching lessons of life through the act of framing. Intentionality and accident; awareness and ignorance; containment and randomness; art and impassivity--all encompassed in our frames. As director Scorsese says about cinema: "It is a matter of what's in the frame and what's out," but more and more I see that applicable in my life as a whole. There is so much to be learned and taught through what is found in the frame. I would like this topic to now be reflected in this blog (might as well as I seem to go on and on about it so much anyway). Anyhow, more later.

a few of my favorite quotes below:

"Art consists of limitation. The most beautiful part of every picture is the frame."
Gilbert K. Chesterton

"Each man should frame life so that at some future hour fact and his dreaming meet."
Victor Hugo

"Humor expands our limited picture frame and gets us to see more than just our problem."
Allen Klein

"Human life itself may be almost pure chaos, but the work of the artist is to take these handfuls of confusion and disparate things, things that seem to be irreconcilable, and put them together in a frame to give them some kind of shape and meaning."
Katherine Anne Porter

Collaborative Quilt; Dedication Quilt

2010-05-28T12:13:00.010-05:00

Ordinarily, I am not much of a quilter. or, you might say, I suck at quilting, but very much enjoy sewing quilt tops. However, so many of the women in my family and lineage make very beautiful quilts; my grandmother, perhaps, most of all. For this reason, a number of years ago, I made a deal with her that if I finished the top, I could pass it on to her, and she would do the actual quilting. I thought of this as my "collaborative quilt" and thought it very exciting, even if I did underestimate the complexity of the pattern and the time it would take to complete such a goal. Well, an embarrassing number of years later, and my part of the deal remains unfinished, partly because each piece must be cut by hand and partly--more importantly--because my grandmother passed away a few years ago. Needless to say, it has been particularly difficult to work on since then, because I cannot help thinking of her when I do anything with it. The color design, sewing tips--nearly every bit of it, I learned from her and my mother, and all I have accomplished with it have been with both of them by me all the time.

Now, with time passed, as I pick it up again, I realize how grateful I am for such strong memories and associations with this project. Who wouldn't want to be reminded of such remarkable women? But I cannot deny or avoid how the concept has unalterably changed. Instead of a "collaborative quilt," I have decided to remake the deal into my "dedication quilt." (Lord help me for the actual quilting... but one thing at a time.) It is the price we pay for loving people that they leave us, and times are ended, but that's part of what makes what is left behind so much more precious. I hope that in every continued step, her presence becomes more apparent. To clarify, I do not wish to make this project embody her life or everything she meant to me; that is a hell of an attempt and would be giving what is most precious to something that passes away. The Thing remains forever just a thing, but it is my intent to infuse a bit of my love and memories in the making of this object, then take them with me, though leaving a perceptible remnant for the enjoyment of others. I am a proponent of this in nearly every art form I participate in, from photography to (musical) performance to sewing, and continue to be amazed at the effectiveness and intensity of the experience, viewer and creator alike, with this method.

Below, some pictures of my remarkable creative lineage that I hope to measure up to someday, if I'm lucky. I don't currently have a digitized copy of my grandmother at her quilting, but hope to soon:

**Grandmother and early family.

**Three generations; four crafties.

**My beloved Aunt passing on the tradition!

Storm Chasography

2010-05-25T12:01:00.003-05:00

Well, successfully completed the first foray into storm photography. Hopefully more to come with my beloved shutterbuddy. I've loved storm chasing for quite a while, but never considered photographing until recently with such great travel companions. Last night's first adventure just happened to be the most perfect conditions and ended up with a number of addictive subjects caught on film between the two of us, and now I must admit: hook, line, sinker; I'm gone, especially after several lottery images like these:

Addendum

2010-05-22T23:26:00.001-05:00

Right. Well, I have to add the disappointment of this being the first semester that I didn't finish the goals I set for myself. It happens, and I realize it, but still had to write, then re-write this later. There are times when you feel yourself grow, because of circumstances or epiphanies, and I can say that this (and last) semester has taught me so very many things that I am still processing. Then again, there will always be ways to improve, and cons to the pros. I refuse to focus on the disappointments, but instead as yet another place to work on and toward as I begin the study schedule and list of experiments for next term. Starting a very new, exciting section of grad work, and move a step closer to what I intend to dedicate myself to. There will be more on this, but as yet, excited planning and back-ups in the works.

Semester Assessment

2010-05-06T11:42:00.003-05:00

I think I can accurately give this even with the semester not quite over yet, the reason being that I am sitting waiting on my final and thinking, "well, I've got this covered... weird. now what?" and I have to say, it's freaking me out a little bit. (in a good way.) I know I tend to ramble on and on about various experiments in research and grad school only to provide results in various levels of vagueness. (except when it crashes and burns, then it's rather definite.) but this semester I think I can finally provide some positive feedback, and I owe it to three sources, really all of which speaking of mindsets. If you haven't met me, I tend to run on a string of epiphanies, and each of these are no exception, but it wasn't until I put all three into practice that Edison finally struck incandescence.

The three ideas I'm talking about are a set of focusing and organizational techniques to maximize efficiency in less than ideal scheduling situations as well as circumventing the shut-down process in the event that the schedule does break down as it almost always inevitably does. These concepts are a determined mindset against stressful overload (in order to work at all), a method of lowering the to-do list into an attainable "next step" set of procedures (in order to move toward a finish line), and the permission to work as you work and as time permits, as my teacher says, "if you have four minutes to focus on writing, then for that four minutes, put all your attention and energy into that bit of writing."

As a bit of a preface, I have to say that I am a big believer in the power the mindset and as well believe that a lot of energy is wasted in stress and worry. My solution is to redirect that energy into the decision not to stress. I realize this is something incredibly easy to say and remarkably difficult to put into effect. However, I can attest to the value of the mindset because, however much I am now regarded now for being an "eternal optimist," I am naturally a very pessimistic person--immediately jumping to the worst conclusion imaginable that then spawns a downward trend as you might expect--that just got tired of always hearing negative things out of my mouth; I didn't even want to hear it when I was saying it and decided to change it. I like being happy. It took a long time, but the effects were nearly immediate to myself and those that I interacted with.

I have tried to find ways of applying this back to grad school, being inherently and infamously stressful as it unfortunately is. Last semester I juggled probably more hats than I ever have before and about halfway through discovered that I couldn't afford to be stressed, since it led to a shut-down, and the inability to work because of a stressful shut-down is nearly the most miserable state I know of, even surpassing panic. because stress produces no benefit for me; I cannot work, but cannot rest because of guilt and need to get work done, and perpetuating the feeling with increasing exhaustion. In this instance, I wasn't getting anywhere, and something had to be done. I decided not to be stressed and put my energy into following through with it, something I am still continuing, but again almost immediately, I saw the results of determination. This really has to do with focus, and I have blogged about that before, but it is also contingent upon actually using the new-found ability to get things done.

At the beginning of this year, my teacher lent me a book aimed at certain types of people who have disparate and abundant interests called, Refuse to Choose, in which the author outlines a number of what she calls "next-step" methods for achieving a goal. In the book, it is mostly aimed at career choices, but knowing what I want to do, I see a wonderful parallel for research projects. The most striking was a backwards flow chart of sorts that she describes as noting the end result, often very daunting, and working back to a next step that is safe, doable, and grants nearly immediate gratification of achievement. This is incredibly beneficial to me in grad school, an institution inevitably demoralizing and in which it is often difficult to trace achievement or improvement. Also, as I face writing a thesis and consider the effort coming in eventually writing a dissertation--shut-down imminent--the next-step allows movement, understanding, and safety. I can put my abundant determination to work if I can move at all and can give any kind of direction for myself.

I put this method into effect on a much smaller scale this semester in a string of experiments from small, individual class assignments to final projects, and I cannot begin to describe the amount of success I have had with it. For example, about midterm time, I instituted my 800 words a day writing plan. The idea being that I would write 800 words a day, excuse me: keep 800 words, not necessarily in one sitting or on one section or topic, but just to move forward with projects and have an attainable, measurable amount of progress. It's also more open-ended in the matter of length; I prefer to write projects "until it's done," rather than to a page amount. I have a difficult time judging progress in the page length, often not able to write in a linear form beginning to end, or even beginning thought to ending thought. I like to think of this as an experience issue, but I figure I can't work to fix it if I can't work at all, or with no measure of progress.

The third factor that has impacted me was in a discussion (if I ever graduate, my incredibly patient teachers and parents should get a medal or induction into sainthood or something...) ahem, I was remarking with veiled anxiety over the amount of interruptions endured in times scheduled for writing, and asked if there was any way of working around it. My teacher gave a very profound (for me anyway) piece of advice about focus that I thought amazing and that is that you work for the time you have to commit. As quoted above, "if you have four minutes to focus on writing, then for that four minutes, put all your attention and energy into that bit of writing." One of the other things that really gets me when I'm writing is the guilt-trip I put on myself when I have a chunk of time to work and am relatively unproductive in that time, whether by my own distracted means or others'. What this type of focus model does for me is give the permission to be interrupted. and recover. 800 word goal is still attainable if I stop and talk, or answer a study question, and even comes quicker without the guilt punishment later.

a semester of epiphanies, and fabulous advice: thank you.

Giving Back, Even In Small Ways

2010-04-28T16:19:00.003-05:00

I know that the way this generally works is that you pass on what you are given, and we speak of it in the traditions that we carry: pass it on as you have received. I'm all about that, but on occasion, it is really wonderful to see this sort of thing pan out in a much smaller area of giving and receiving. What has inspired me most recently is the act of giving people lifts, home or to their car. Generally a very small thing, all things considered, though in our community it comes up more frequently as students are nearly required to park in the next county to get on campus, and having particular ambulatory issues at times, I am most frequently reminded how big a deal a simple ride can be. I am also for those same reasons usually the one accepting rides the most often as well.

However, I have, by strange circumstances, found myself with the ability and opportunity to offer that back to other people. Perhaps it is a mark of how small my world has become, (and I will probably never be able to give as many as I have received) but I am overjoyed to be able to give lifts from a trip home to someone completely exhausted or just to the car for someone with broken bones (and believe me, little is more daunting than crossing 8 lanes of traffic when you can't move). This is what we do, microscopically, but still important, and philosophical. because you never know when something seemingly small is actually very important to someone else. so the real point of this post: to all my lifesavers, mentors, and friends (who happen to read this), thank you.

http://payitforwardday.com/

Lather; Rinse; Repeat

2010-04-22T15:14:00.003-05:00

2 weeks before the final project culminates
reviews order and organization; begins powerpoint.
leaves text alone, dammit.

1 week to presentation
looks over text and combine with powerpoint
good idea, but beware

5 days to goal
hmm, maybe a few edits would be ok.
red light, red light

3 days to go
this doesn't make sense...
"Danger, Will Robinson"

2 days to D-Day
Ah!! What was I thinking; this is all inarticulate crap!!
well, I tried; have fun

1 day to Armageddon
fixin' it! Work, forget sleep, and bring on the coffee!
why the hell do you do this to yourself... freak.

Event
give the damn thing and get it off my desk
was it worth the crap?

appraisal
reevaluation: what worked and what didn't?
good grief

Playing for the Dancers

2010-04-20T20:49:00.002-05:00

playin' music with these people: there ain't nothing like it.

I freaking love them.

Research Experiment #1, Performance in Practice: Update. Expansion.

2010-04-19T14:07:00.000-05:00

Getting back a bit to this topic thread, though for the original purposes, it has already failed. However, I will finish the concept to a bit of a conclusion over the next few posts on this topic. I have run into an unexpected hole in my evidence in my attempt to take a methodology that was before exclusively a master-apprentice model and turn it into an instruction manual list of next-steps. There are certain types of evidence that works, at very least for me personally, in a face-to-face teaching/learning environment that unfortunately leave me unconvinced (if not downright cantankerous) in a scholarly document. Most notable and applicable in this instance is what I call the "trust me" reasoning, or alternatively: "Because I said so."

It's easy for me to say that I have gone through the Liber Usualis (compendium of chant particularly useful in familiarizing style/melodic language of the church modes) and played enough of those melodies to know that in mode 7, one should utilize gestures X,Y,Z, to indicate and improvise within the mode. It's even true, and I'm not knocking that methodology; it is a legitimate way to back-up an argument for learning a new skill. but also, some methods work unquestionably well face to face that are less convincing (from know-nothing disreputable graduate students especially) in impersonal document format. just saying.

So I've been working on a different method of justification for these melodic gestures, but it's a rather involved process that has taken me quite a bit longer than originally planned to develop and execute. Update synopsis: still plodding along, but waiting for the opportune moment.

Neighbor Awareness FAIL

2010-04-19T13:00:00.002-05:00

moving inside the coffee shop to work because the person sitting upwind of me and smoking decided to exhale each puff directly in my face: Jackass, if I wanted to smoke, trust me when I say that I possess enough self-motivation to get my own damn cigarette and don't need yours.

Thank you very much.

Murphy descends to next level of hell

2010-04-15T15:38:00.002-05:00

Taking the one hour available, after nodding off in three of the most interesting classes it has ever been my pleasure to attend, to catch up on a little sleep in the hope to function for subsequent class/study session/rehearsals. and the phone rings off the hook the entire time.

Low blow, Murphy, low blow...

Some Days...

2010-03-28T13:19:00.002-05:00

Sometimes. I wish some things were different. There are days when my level of patience is inversely proportional to the amount of exhaustion, frustration runs rampant, failure/screw ups are constant. I suppose it is 'that point' in the semester, and I cannot help aiming most of that frustration at myself: why does this thing/action/statement bother me so much? if I were better at X or a better person altogether, then it wouldn't. Why can't I change it? Patience isn't (or shouldn't be) conditional. Why can't I do simple things? or remember simple things? or get my body to function the way it should? or just let it go, whatever it is. blah, blah, blah, shit.

Being unprepared is one of my worst fears, leaving things to the last minute stresses me to no end, and somehow my body's failings time themselves for the worst possible moment; and I can't change it. There are things that, while I can see how it could be better, I have no control over the outcome. last minute changes are a fact of life, no one can anticipate everything, and I cannot stop physical/emotional pain, mine or others', however much I might wish it. What is it called, "aversive personality type?" hello, I'll take a table for one, please...

Frustration is nearly always a sign to me that my focus is not where it needs to be. (Everything goes back to photography at the moment). Focus is where it lives: why does it bother me? because I'm an obsessive-compulsive-perfectionist that sees detail A is not in line with detail B, and it could be. Sadly, I get the most frustrated when that applies or can be applied most accurately to myself; with exhausted frustration aimed at other people, I vent to one of my closest friends and that's that. let go. (however much I wish that I could handle it without bothering them with it ... but I am human and make mistakes.) but as for frustration toward myself, I have as yet no such method. I fail myself constantly as no other person has come even close to doing. It's one of the issues that comes up in graduate school (that I feel at least) is not an insignificant skill: forgiving/having patience with yourself. and to do that, what I find I have to do is shift my focus back on the things that really matter.

I get so excited to play music with any group of people, especially these that I adore so much. Every one of the people in my ensembles--teachers, fellow students, guest performers--are wonderful people that I would do anything for. (by the way, how freaking often can anyone say that??) My teachers are the highest quality of person, player, and educator that I have ever seen. I stand in constant amazement and gratitude that they are even here, and that I've had an opportunity to know them, much less love them dearly. as I do. It's as I have said as well about my parents: that if I could be half the person (or educator, or performer in this case) that they are, I would feel extremely fortunate. My fellow ensemble members have been the coolest group of pirates and medieval geeks I have ever had the fortune to know and grow with as a musician: any excuse to play with these people, I jump at the chance.

and am extremely grateful for it.
Thank you all for keeping me sane.

Update

2010-03-12T22:08:00.005-06:00

doing a bit of re-designing. bear with me.
below the jump: few artsy things I've been working with lately; see how they look on the new background.

Compulsiveness aside; tangent allowed

2010-03-12T00:03:00.000-06:00

Sorry for the absence in blogging. We're entering that point in the semester when you either suck it up and ride the wave on what you've prepared or say a prayer and hold your breath, 'cause you're going under. This week was the culmination of the pre-spring break work, including a run of proposals on Tuesday, an absolutely fabulous group of guest artists that gave an appropriately awesome concert last night and a back-to-back midterm epic this afternoon. wicked ride, and exhaustion levels off-the-charts, but it was worth it. I have had more people coming to me in confused panic (the irony is severely noted, trust me) than I've ever experienced, but I can't say no if there's something I can do to help it; I know how much it helped me when I was in that situation. so between different meetings and righteous workshops with the incredibly generous and self-effacing band members, there hasn't been much time to absorb. It's only been after the last test and last class that I've been able to take a moment to process while eyes and fingers were busy editing pictures. I was incredibly fortunate to be invited to photograph the phenomenal concert, and it always gets me thinking about what I do.

I know I've probably mentioned it many times before, but photography is like a microcosmic reminder of what it is to be an artist: simply a way of viewing the world. If you can't see the frame in dolby digital 4-D surround sensation, then you'll never get what you're looking for in a photograph. If you know what you're looking for without a camera, then all you're figuring out behind the lens is how to go about it. Show people Then again, even when you've taken pictures for years, and even working with the near-immediacy of digital media, you still really don't know what you've got until you look at them all. Honestly, most of them still don't turn out; only about a third to fifth of the total number are decently presentable. I love that about photography. Half of the the time, it's only as I walk through the editing motions that I can relax and see what is actually there. Amazing things happen when you do this when photographing musicians. Photography is endlessly rewarding for me anyway, but little is more so than photographing musicians doing what they love to do. I love being a musician photographer. Portraying a storyteller-performer for other people to see as I see them, "you could spend your life ... and it would not be a wasted life."

Research Experiment #1, Performance in Practice: Guidelines

2010-02-10T09:03:00.000-06:00

or, "Following Your Own Theoretical Advice In a Practical Example." This series, of sorts, of posts that I want to start is the informal substance of a paper I'm working on and will be using this blog as a crucible for that project. If it doesn't work, I'll reassess from there. What I am going to do is walk through the performance questions that arise when building a modern, newly-imagined version of medieval music as I have learned to conceive it, and my particular method for answering those questions. This is one method of many, and one person's opinion on how to go about it.

Now, to begin. This will be the 'accompanying a song' section. Of primary importance in this type of performance is the text, followed closely by the story, i.e. meaning of text. How that translates for an accompanying instrumentalist is what I will now (attempt) to describe using a practical example. What I hope, if successful, is that a reader will have a general understanding of what it takes and a few guiding steps to re-imagine medieval music in performance. The truncated version that I give for people asking me, "I have been assigned _____ piece and must come up with accompaniment [with or without panicked inflections]. Where/how do I start?" etc., etc. This is:

1. reduce the melody to long tones
to further clarify: there are certain modal gestures, or even simpler: just notes, that will follow and support the melody or text, or (hint, hint) often both. The reduction of the melody in this fashion will very quickly give you a foundation to then develop.

2. manipulate (or substitute) the particular 'melodic gestures' indicative of the specific mode.
This is a jumping off point for figuring, or improvising, variations on the melody, as well as providing plentiful material for extemporized interludes, preludes, etc., etc. To clarify as well: 'melodic gesture' is a term coined by a teacher of mine that speaks to the fact that modes are defined, somewhat by the placement and span of the octave, but much more so the specific collection of melodic figures distinctive to each mode.

3. reduce the text to adjectives.
The role of accompaniment is to heighten and support the text. To do this, even as instrumentalists, I feel very strongly that some knowledge of the meaning of the text is needed. We don't have to know the extent that (we hope) the singer is doing, but it can only help to inform our performance. What is the point, and what does it mean?

I would suggest as well a general knowledge of the context of the piece, in as far as we can gather, in it's original historical setting, but that is a slippery research slope, because it becomes difficult to know the line between "research for the sake of performance" and "burying the performance in research." Trust me: been there, done both. To solve this, here is my check-list of things to be aware of:
a) have a list of performance questions to answer, and just answer them. For example, 'what century/country/region are we in?' 'Who's paying/playing/listening?' 'What types of methods do have from (roughly) the period about creating music, or maybe more specifically about extemporizing music?' 'What guesses can we make about possible influences on the piece?' I have found for me, the shorter the answer, the less distracted I am liable to get.

b) knowing more about the piece can only help, but spend at least as much time practicing the thing as you do researching it. Playing this music, or really any music, is hard. It is immensely gratifying, serves unnumbered purposes, and connects people in ways nearly inconceivable to me though I've seen and done it for years, but it is hard. Aspiring to excellence requires a dedicated amount of time and effort. Both of which I am happy to give because I value what I do, but I believe it cannot be reached without those two elements.

c) have fun and experiment. As my teacher told me the day I met him, "If it's not fun, why are we here?" I'll add to that here in that if it's not an interesting performance to the person singing/playing it, I guarantee it will not be interesting to the audience listening to it. Think about, hold in your mind, feel what you want the audience to "take away" from this performance, and as crazy as it sounds, they will. even in various crazy dialects no one's heard of or completely instrumental music.

'Little White Bird' Gone Puck

2010-01-29T12:36:00.006-06:00

[SHADOW leaps up, running around the room, is excited about life, &etc. Stops bounces over, noticing BODY still lying under covers. acts somewhat confused in momentary stillness. ]

SHADOW: "Body!!! Why aren't you moving?? There's so much to do and be today--get up!!!"
BODY: [sounding unconnected with the still figure under covers] "mnph, are you kidding me? Have you looked outside? forget it. and, if you keep that up, I'm locking you out."
SHADOW: [giggling madly and continuing to pirouette, for the hell of it] "Oh, no no no, you cannot fool me; I've seen outside, and it is bea-U-tiful! I'll bet there're lots of good pictures to be taken..."
BODY: [single eye opening] "Ok, not all of your points are bad, but there'll be good pictures later, and really, let's weigh pros and cons here, misery versus worth. What do you say to that?"
SHADOW: "hmmm, [pauses] there's coffee. really gooooood coffee. right over there, a few steps away. I'd make it, but you're so picky about your ratios."
BODY: [both eyes open] "hmm, an interesting thought. The day could prove redeemable under those kinds of conditions, perhaps... maybe in a minute" [shuts eyes, concluding sum total of movement]
SHADOW: [feeling the Rubicon approaching, still fights to gain ground] "umm, oatmeal! If you get up, there'll be oatmeal!! and a banana!!!! and then, music (maybe)!!!!!!!" [bounces to the guitar and plays the light over the strings]
BODY: "you are very persistent. and perky. Don't you ever feel the weather? I routinely fall apart--did you not see the arm hanging up over there?--and you're worried about dancing??? or moving, or whatever the hell it is you're doing."
SHADOW: "It's called, 'happiness,' Brother, 'excitement,' and I'm offering it to you." [holds out hand]
BODY: [considers] "Does the coffee offer still stand?"
SHADOW: [smile back in place, barely able to keep still] "throw in a walk around the block (lots of good pictures,) and you've got a deal!!!"

BODY: [rising] "ugh, you should sell cars..."
[SHADOW doesn't answer, but redoubles giggling.]

Overload ... Overloaded ... And Recapped

2010-01-27T12:50:00.002-06:00

Ok, I've gotten through the 'come-back craziness,' I think. Or certainly hope. Moving in, planning, organizing, and ordering (textbooks) the first week of classes is not my idea of "prepared," and results in the first week things are due saying, "I'm really not as scattered as I seem, I promise!" Oh yeah, that's exactly how I like to think of myself re-entering the university scene. It's not the only thing I dislike finding out about myself, but there it is. and I think I am managing to overcome it a bit. I have begun paper 1 (of 7); ambitious for the semester, but I think I can handle it.

Here's what I have planned, and it is subject to change a bit. I also have plans for the blog as well that currently require blogging knowledge I don't possess, so I'm looking at a bit of a challenge. all systems firing on this one. So the papers in the works are

humor and political/social commentary.
probably one of the newest most fascinating things I've been working on lately (and therefore gets top billing) spread out over three composers, titles of the class: Ives, Ellington, Zappa. It's also a wonderful rhetorical exercise to get myself back in the habit. currently going through piece decisions, but getting through the outline and writing what can be fleshed out.

wordless rhetoric: narrative and 'conceptual continuity' in Beethoven's later style.
I just read a jumping-off article by William Kinderman about Beethoven's use of established musical practices and quotation of traditionally texted material to convey a story, truly narrate a story, without actually having the text accompanying. As it happens, I find this fascinating, of course, and find rhetoric and narrative completely engaging. Of course, this one is probably in the most beginning stages because I know extremely little about Beethoven. hence being in the class. I'm still in the choosing process for the piece in this paper as well, but I have begun the section on explaining to an unfamiliar audience what the implications of a method like this might entail, and really, that's what most interests me, so I expect to need the most editing in this area before presenting anyway.

music, memory, and how the ratio has flipped through course of history.
This is something that I have wanted to write a paper on for a while and have just found the perfect excuse, because if you look through our historical 20/20 telescope, we see this kind of extreme 180° flip over about the past 1000 years of what it means to conceptualize auditory events in the memory, pertaining to music, speech, poetry, etc. They wrote of extremely effective methods for remembering large amounts of material, and just because things changed over time does not mean that it was replaced by something better. (not that that statement is necessarily going to be in the paper, either, just an observation)

the need-to-know guide to the instrumental accompanying of a singer
This is actually one of three planned for the semester pertaining to the thesis that I sketched out last semester but didn't manage to walk away with the output. There are a number of steps (check-list, "short-cuts," whatever you like to call it) that I think a performer should consider, or know to consider, when approaching a performance with a singer of medieval music. This is also a sketch that I'd like to go conceptualize on the blog as well as on paper--new experiment for the new semester--to see if it helps clarity, is informational to anyone else, or is maybe just interesting.

medieval music and modality: melodic exploitation and (essentially) 'affect'
Modal music, and maybe its priorities as well or more importantly, is something that I realize might be very new to some people, and there are a number of ways to successfully play to those priorities with a bow if you know where to look. They will occur in the same places as a singer would use, but the technique will be different, and this one will be describing the list of technical tools used to play into those modal moments. (sorry, alliteration comes out with enough excitement... and coffee) So playing unaccompanied "song" or alluding to text or story, a player can employ these methods for to achieve further depth of performance.

performing medieval instrumental dance music: techniques, goals, and repertoire
Let's face it, there is little extant medieval instrumental pieces, and I think it crucial to answer the question, "why?" because it is very nearly the same answer that appears when one says, "My focus, in research and performance, is medieval music," to various blank faces or unfiltered responses. This subject is one of the three main roles an instrumentalist performing medieval music will be asked to fill, therefore it must be covered if one aspires to be such a type of musician. It will also need to draw from both the former topics to be successful, and so comes last in my ordering.

successful and unsuccessful arguments
last-minute addition to the semester, but one that I am really kind of excited to dig in and get some meat out of it. The question of what is successful and unsuccessful in persuasive speaking/writing is something that I've been asking myself for a while now and trying to solve. "Why does this arrangement of these words work, and this arrangement not?" I know that it makes a significant difference, but how does one determine the effect or the degree of successfulness across the board? I am really enjoying the planning out stage because there is so much that I could do and think and plan and so many directions to go in at once.

Thoughts 'After the Coffee Break:' Possible Oxymoron Included

2010-01-17T12:04:00.002-06:00

Sorry for the bit of hiatus there. It would seem that I have to "ponder" a bit before I can articulate (at least in writing) about anything. I'm not sure whether exactly to be annoyed or not about it either, but there it is. As I get back in the semester/classes/writing swing, I find myself trying to put into words the most mind-blowing, thought-provoking, or epiphanic moments of the past semester. To give you an idea of how well it's working, this is currently the tenth post (and possibly the one most likely to actually get published) in the past two weeks. So I'll start with some of the most recent/broad and work my way backwards/specific.

I have had the wonderful opportunity over the past semester to work on my singing skills (noticeably lacking), and as I continue that work on the new Spring program (which I am completely jazzed about), it gives me a lot to think on and consider. As much as I love singing privately, I am still working through various 'nerves' issues that singing publicly causes me. I have chosen to focus on traditions in which the voice is either the main method for structure or audience communication or both. Given that, I truly believe that, even if an instrumentalist or you don't like your voice or it scares the shit out of you, it should be something you can do and, for me, something you can explain why you do as well. I'm not sure that makes sense, so I will give you the kind of scattered list of questions I ask myself when approaching a performance.

One of the most profound is from a story from my teacher of a typical teaching event of grand-teacher addressing a student in mid-performance, saying, "Stop!! Why did you play that 'A'?" While this concept does scare the shit out of me for various reasons, it also makes sense to me and is an ongoing question that I now ask myself, often in mid-practice session. something that I strive to be able to answer at a given moment: Why did I do that? Also, I aspire to be a story teller, and especially for singing) what can I do in this song that helps promote the story? What can I alter in this variation that communicates better the feeling of the story and why? Now, how can I move all this onto a string instrument? Is it possible? It's kind of why I think I'm a complete sucker for horribly depressing, rip-your-heart-out-now type songs, but that's just a guess.

I'm working on a couple of new songs in this sort of vein right now, and I keep finding new things to think about with them. One of these is the key. In an equal temperament setting, does it really matter what the key is? Before I believe I would have scoffed and said no. but now, I'm toying with my own version of things, and wonder if that should be reconsidered. If I set this song:

(skip to about 2:48 or 3:00 for the song)

just a step or two below where it is perfectly comfortable for me, does it convey the tragedy better? and yet just a half step higher than 'perfectly comfortable,' and the amount of volume is remarkably more. and my instrumental head just exploded because of the differences I'm getting over the span of a minor third, and holy cow, is this even really possible??? Then we get in to rhythmic questions. I probably listen most often to Old-Style, or Sean Nos, singers (if not medieval, unmetered performances), so I naturally find myself, in creating my own versions, veering away from meter and instead building up from the textural rhythm/emphasis. Then again, there is a point at which this is a hindrance to the story, and where is that line? It's usually at this point that I try to step back and remind myself that I just love the song for what it is, but it's really blowing my mind just thinking about these things, and they just get more interesting the more I think about 'em. I love it when that happens. I am now getting more questions than I am answers for myself: This is in English; how would other languages factor into this? Would the same thing have the same effect from the audience if they didn't understand the language? or the genre: if we take this same process through time, would the reaction be different? Ah, if the program was mixed, English/other with modern/past, would this bridge the gap if the answer was no? If that was the case, how much 'audience education' could be shown instead of explained and would it be more or less effective because of it?

yep, it's a sickness... a fascinating, perpetually spiraling, wonderful sickness.
When do we get to play music again?

Life Is

2009-12-22T11:58:00.005-06:00

I have decided to post this, because it just won't leave. The past few days have been some crazy kind of ride. Yesterday, we went to visit a good friend in the hospital and are only hearing good news on that front (thank God, and let's keep that coming!). I always have a hard time in hospitals, not with the people I came to see, really, there's not much that can shock me in that respect, hard as it may be to soldier up and be tough for them, but really for the other people that no one sees. It's very difficult. and usually quite strange. In this case, in the room next to our friend's, who had a constant stream of visitors, was a lady that had nothing. It has kind of weirded me out for several reasons.

She called me into her room to ask me if I was an artist (several personal arguments on that topic aside, I did say, "yes") and then if I was that artist "from a long time ago." It's interesting because for about a month in there, every time I went to sleep, I was in that hallway and that room telling Steve he should get better. On this day, she asked me to tell her what it was like to die and what she would see. Why she asked me of all people, I have no idea, but I can translate the deeper issue, which is essentially: living or dying, what is there left to hope for? I have to say this had a profound effect on me, and I can't really get it out of my head; I know a lot of things that are mostly unexplainable, but are nearly always true anyway. I told her some of them, about hope, about being well, about living, but also that if she couldn't believe in healing for herself, I could, and did. do, in fact. I looked at these adjoining rooms in a medical ward where a whole lot of shit is going on at a horrible time of year for it and see the two sides of what one can face: our friend is on one side winning a wrestling match with Death, against seemingly all odds, but not going out without taking someone down and this day is just not it, dammit, and then this lady on the other, contentedly waiting on the decision to leave or not, just simply curious about the result.

Community: More Than Just Bandmates

2009-11-27T17:52:00.004-06:00

Do I give a flying you-know-what about Rachmaninov 2?
--well, no, not so much really...

Would I miss it for the world, considering my friend's playing in it?
--hell-freaking-no!!!!! bring on Rachmaninov!!!!

this is as it was modeled to me, we have loved, and as we continue to support:
this is what it means to be a community.
(and did I enjoy the hell out of myself anyway: epic yes...)

Livin' In Our Hearts

2009-11-24T08:00:00.003-06:00

in this hour on this day, four years ago, watching dear family member take last breaths. happy thanksgiving. it is the way of living, of loving. sorrow is a part of life. grief: reminding us of the joy of being a part of someone's life for a time and making it more precious because it ends. I have a hard time not really disliking thanksgiving: "how was your Thnxgivng?" "oh, you know... relived the death of beloved lady, ate turkey or whatever it was, felt like a horrible person watching people smile, petulant four year old doesn't deserve my loving family, and you?" So this year, I step away from the computer (if it means accepting consequences for goals unmet, so be it), take a walk in the trees because I have them in this dear, beautiful place, and offer a toast instead--

Here's to you: Gassho, Selah, Hiraeth, and Amen. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life; celebrating life through death--remembering the impermanence, the love, the joy.

On Your Mark, Get Set... Freeze

2009-11-23T08:56:00.002-06:00

You know, I have been thinking a lot recently about the "where do I start?" concept, or complex, that grabs students (under and grad alike) with remarkable frequency. It's one of those things that, usually with something new (difficult, uncomfortable, etc), and even if students are excited, they/we seize up right at the get-go with the question above: where do I start? Now, if you have met me before, you probably know that I am the poster child for this phenomenon, and I am usually excited about everything I can get that's new--ideas, methods, techniques, books... ok. I am the type that hears, "we will now learn X" and think OH!!! how marvelous, I've always wanted to learn that!! isn't it interesting (and will now consume my life until I figure it out; you get the idea) but then moving toward actually doing it: ... [epic roadblock.]

So it is why, as I move forward in my education and teaching, I am probably most aware of methods I create to speak to this phenomenon. One of the main ones discussed in previous blog post is the varied "experiments" I think up just to get ideas. I hold on to the belief, as foolish as it may be, that as long as I have a steady flow of ideas, then I maintain the hope of the possibility of finding one that works. Example X didn't work. ok, what have we learned from this? Ah ha!! Example Y... and so forth as a mostly constant ebb and flow of successful and unsuccessful experiments pertaining to each situation and circumstances as they come. Then we get to the end of the semester, and suddenly the same results I've been getting all along are huge, incomprehensible errors of epic proportions, and the whole thing must be crazy, and I suck... familiar spiral.

There are two points here that give me pause: I say familiar. For the first time this semester, I have planned my schedule out "to the letter," especially getting down to the wire as we are, and I don't know what to think of this actually: I planned for the ever-present, end-of-semester breakdown. Now, I don't know whether to be encouraged by this, because is it not positive that instead of being caught off guard and having a stress explosion, I am tired but functional? but then, I also think, man this is pathetic: is it not a negative thing that I am so predictably unstable that I know to plan for this ridiculous nonsense?

This leads me to my second point, and that is that while I have many ideas for "experiments" on improving writing and performing and efficiency and methodology, I've got nothing on the headcase--i mean "headspace"--issue. I guess it's positive that it's one of the few areas that I can say honestly that I cannot pull myself out of. at least at this time in my life/career/blah blah. I feel like I should be able to, because it's certainly not something that's going to go away, and part of this whole process is to learn how to deal with such things. I was taken to lunch today by my advisor at the archive and several fellow volunteers, as a farewell deal, and it totally made my day. Suddenly the tasks I have set myself were not the horrendously unachievable mountain, and I could leave and consider writing again. I couldn't really figure this out, even though this is certainly not the first time it's happened, even in this one semester.

In fact, I must now extol the virtues and saving grace of my beloved Rumi, who has been the stabilizing perspective for my personality of extremes for going on at least four years now. I am extremely grateful for all the wisdom and insight she has given me, even if it doesn't sink in right away. I cannot tell you how many paper-writing nights she has appeared at some ghastly hour that I don't even realize it is, and when I held up one of my scraps to her in a blaze of frustration and panic saying, "I can't figure out what this MEANS--it's MY notes--I can't even READ my OWN research--maybe it just isn't RESEARCH, and I've been doing it WRONG all this TIME--a paper is supposed to make SENSE and not be CRAZY..." she can say things like,

"do you realize that it's 4 in the morning? because you could probably do with some sleep, you're not going crazy, and sweetie, this is a grocery list..."

Goals

2009-11-20T08:46:00.002-06:00

so. another end of semester looming. I mention things that I'm working on, not because they actually do, and certainly not that they are brilliant pieces of wisdom--excuse me while I now puke. But I think of it simply as "where I am" in the process. I am finishing year 2, semester 1, and I can't see the year and half I've been in graduate school as being a place where I can now add patches to all my sleeves, bifocals (well, ok, maybe that doesn't count...) and say, "I will now impart my experience." oh please. wait--is that a whole year and a half we're talking here??

However, on the flip side of this, I remember spending something like the first six months in complete panic (&etc.), with no idea what to do to start or to do next or move beyond the vicious headspace spiral of "I don't know; can't figure it out; must be stupid; must be WRONG; must FAIL...." blech I know we all do it, and it comes back at the worst times, and I do (currently anyhow) believe that part of why we're here is to learn how to deal with that when it comes. I also think we spend particular semesters learning to deal with specific "hurdles:" performance aspects, writing aspects, oh yeah LIFE, teaching aspects, etc. I also know it doesn't help me to think about everyone else goes through this, too--I know it does help for some people, and I accept that as being wonderful for them, but for me, when I'm already irritated at what I perceive to be personal failure, it just seems to make me more irritated with myself for some reason. and know part of this is a deeply-rooted fear of being "wrong." I don't have any idea where this comes from or why it is, but I know it is true and that many of the other issues that I deal with in learning to be an "Academic Poohbah"** is tied directly to this fear.

That is why I have devised a series of what I call "experiments," because, probably most importantly, the term experiment subverts the overt implications of rightness or wrongness (not both) that other terms such as "trial," "assess," (or even to some extent "analyze" or "method") carry with them. even a failed 'experiment' is not necessarily wrong, it at least has the potential to just be not the result you were looking for. For me, it's not really about having any given experiment work or not. It's much more about being able to move beyond the fear of being wrong to just start some project/research/presentation/blah blah So I begin and end each semester with a list of goals for which to invent experiments for. I will say that this semester is completely unique in that I am even close to achieving that list of goals. holy cow, it's inspiring not least because of the foreign country where I sit typing my random thoughts...

Anyway, as an example, when I "write" papers--meaning collating everything into a single coherent document at the end of a semester to soon turn in to a teacher--what I am actually doing is sitting (usually in the floor) surrounded by scraps of paper with notes, citations, ideas, outlines, titles, important points, random thoughts, etc., that I have collected throughout a semester's work researching, ordering and reordering, scratching out... to end up with: a "paper." I have really clung to the tedious and time-consuming physical "scraps of paper" because I cannot be trusted to win against the dreaded delete button. play enough head-games, get frustrated enough, start the 'what if this idea is wrong' worry spiral, and it all goes!!! A great deal of my writing has disappeared from such lost battles, but of course, you can't run from learning how to do something just because it's hard or will take some time. experiment: I have turned it all digital--and yes, last semester wrote papers needlessly four and five times because of it. However, this semester, I am learning to recognize the signs and have (mostly) managed to step away from the computer when the delete button looms on me. experiment: have the 'research' and the 'paper' in different documents. I can tell you this made soooooooo much difference--obvious, right? well... maybe in hindsight.

This is not the only area that I'm working on--I notice that with each revision, a paper will change drastically, to the point of being a completely different paper, and I want to know: why? my notes haven't changed, it's still the same research that I'm dealing with, so why does it change so much? and does it help or hinder the actual writing to do so many drastic emendations? experiment: make one version--a little editing to make sure terrible randomness is corrected, but no revision. I also continue to fight against gross misestimations of length: I consistently either essentially plan a book, or a lit review. I think this is really just a question of experience, but that's why (as a result of another experiment) I now outline three topics of various amounts of specificity just in case the one I want ends up not working. so my question is is there anyway I can learn to estimate better? experiment: make this more efficient--there's no need for multiple topics if the first one works.

also, hit writing block, sit staring catatonically at the little blinking bar in Word document...
experiment: blog? :-)

**Thanks to my beloved Teacher for the marvelous term.

Thus Begins the Countdown

2009-11-19T11:40:00.002-06:00

Passing the week + half mark until departure with family for points elsewhere. I am wrapping up my work here, trying to tie up research/catalogue projects while I am still (relatively) stationary and commitment free. I dearly love this place and am entirely mixed about leaving (being a person of "strong indecision"), though totally excited about seeing my Little Family. I will miss the people and the trees and the buildings terribly, of course.

We had a discussion today with a fellow American, who seems to be having a bit of trouble adjusting to life here, feeling "isolated" as a visiting student, and my heart completely goes out to him. Then Boss points his finger at me and says, "you must be feeling a bit isolated yourself!!" and I begin to wonder what's wrong with me, because honestly, that hadn't entered into my thinking. I have thought my skills as a researcher have been an epic fail, because there's so much going on, and I know about so little of it. though I'm told that's the "Oxford way." and yet, I go home every night completely full and exhausted--who could ask for more than that?? I will probably be digesting the information that I've gotten here for years to come, so I am perfectly content with that.

and really, how much easier is it to come home and work? Oh my goodness!! I have been up to my ears in academic experiments, have even been able to recover from several failed ones, and looks like will still be able to meet my goals!!!! This has never happened before, so I'm totally excited about it. I do realize that being on an "adventure" like is very inspiring in itself, and I realize that that is mostly the reason that I have been able to carry on essentially two jobs, do research and still "wander" around town a bit. However, I'm trying to use it to get some extra things done and try out some new techniques. Of course, conclusions won't be available until further testing, but I am in the wonderful position of being able to try out new techniques and experiments. I have said it before and say it again:

I have the best advisors in the world, and I love you guys dearly.
Thank you.

Lighter Note:

2009-11-10T17:56:00.006-06:00

I've decided November is just a despicable month, and here is something to be happy about:
besides, I'm just a sucker for doxies...

"One in the Bond of... What?"

2009-11-10T13:21:00.003-06:00

There are many things that are beyond my understanding. and the older I grow, the more I know, the more I realize this to be true. I have a very deeply ingrained sense of duty and responsibility that often seems to come in conflict with my personal beliefs and wishes, but I accept as part of choosing to be who I am in this world. I am an American, and I stand behind my president, regardless of who he is, how popular his actions are, or whether I voted for him. I have take responsibility for him, because he is the leader of my country, and I am beholden to him, because I sure as hell do not want that job, as he is answerable to me, because I put him in that office. I would also like to point out that "standing behind" does not equate "agreement," yet for many of those who share my nationality, the two are synonymous. I do not understand this, but this post is really not about politics, (a subject I tend to avoid), because while I have come to terms with the amount of responsibility I take on in my political support, I am only beginning to understand what it means for those who proclaim to follow the same God that I do. and in this area, I am completely beyond my understanding. and I can no longer bear it alone.

They belong to me, and I must claim them (and subsequent behavior) as I do my president's, if not more, because we are supposed to be "One Body" under a common name in the pursuit of Truth, Love, Grace, Mercy, and Peace, and as we are told the "greatest of these is Love." I see the amazing truth of this more and more every day; it's corny for a reason, but isn't part of "loving," "accepting?" I believe what I believe because my God has saved my life in an ever increasing number of ways, and quite often, is the only reason that I can handle many truths of this world. He is everything to me. and yet I come from a religious lineage fraught with hateful actions and an obvious lack of acceptance. How can this be possible? We stand in buildings saying, "love your neighbor," and then point our fingers at people who believe differently than us, shouting angry words in their faces. I no longer ask, "Is this true?" I know that it is, and I nearly can't handle the truth of it. I witness on an almost daily basis, someone of my belief shouting in the street about repentance and giving, while ignoring the people right in front of them who have no home to go to tonight. I don't mean condemnation: I truly believe it is unawareness, but for crying out loud (literally), my people, how blind can we be? I now ask myself--no, not myself; I cannot trust myself, one who consistently runs from truth too heavy to bear--I ask someone a little higher than me: how often do I do the same thing without realizing it? I am grieved nearly to heart of myself at the thought, but it is the price for seeking Truth. At some point, you find it; it just may not be easily understood or grasped as you naively thought.

like the fact that I sit here in my room, warm and well-fed, typing about philosophical problems while those aforementioned people with no place to go, are out in the cold and the wet. Another truth I find nearly impossible to bear.

This is what we've come to?

2009-11-06T15:40:00.000-06:00

There was a shooting yesterday on a military base a few miles from my house. I can't believe it. Of course, the absolute first thing I do (I'm sorry, it is a bit selfish, but true) is pull out the mental checklist of military family members I always have on hand and only after realizing none are in the area, can I breathe easier. The immediate second thought is that someone somewhere just went through that checklist, with a different outcome. and it just tears me apart. How could you? How much pain and suffering do you have to be under to do this? and don't quote me some bullshit about guns, or that we've been doing this to each other since the beginning of time, or that it's the wrong religion, or wrong mental process--these are apathetic excuses, not deeper issues. somewhere someone is going to take all the responsibility for this because he lived through it, and I'm sure will soon feel the wrath of Texas. and I've just found out there has been another in Florida.

My God, this is beyond what I can handle.

check-point:

2009-11-06T14:00:00.003-06:00

so, is this helpful for anyone? I'm finding out that there is a great deal that I am able write for myself with a pencil on a book margin, but an entirely different set of things that I am able to write with a keyboard on a blog. I have also had little chance to get out of my own head with it, and I'm having a hard time feeling that this could possibly be of use to anyone but me. but if that assumption is wrong, I am happy to keep doing it. I suppose it's also rather difficult to not feel horrible, self-centered, and judgmental as well, but that could just be a "getting used to it" kind of thing. something to think about, I guess.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 348-349.

2009-11-05T14:38:00.003-06:00

[picking up page 348]

"Speaking of teaching and of classrooms reminds me that when thinking of the relationship between the musicologist and the performer we usually assume that the former teaches and the latter learns. But good performers can teach receptive scholars a great deal, and communication both ways is needed if a real symbiosis of musicology and performance is to occur. Sometimes one is lucky enough to have it happen within oneself if one combines the roles. It was the performer in me that taught the scholar in me the extent to which modus, the division of longas into breves, continues, though not explicit in the notation, to operate throughout the Renaissance period, at least in church music, as an organizer of rhythm. This is a feature totally obscured by modern editions which base their barring on the tactus--a feature of modern editorial practice which, as Lowinsky demonstrated over twenty years ago, is perfectly authentic, but, for a final paradox, no less a falsification for that. For modus is, as I have come to believe, the operative factor in projecting the rhythmic life of much of Isaac, for example, or of Josquin. It is a matter I intend to pursue in the context of "pure research," but it was a discovery I made purely serendipitously as a performer."

1.-4. *fabulous* argument.

5. I hate bar lines... too many associations with bar lines that are not worth overcoming if you can sidestep, and many of us don't realize we have them; look up Lowenski

[page 349]

"I began this little essay by noting that musicologists and performers are on better terms now than ever before, and I wish to reaffirm this heartening fact in conclusion. It might not be amiss to recall that it was not always so. Dmitri Shostakovich once had a good laugh over a definition of a musicologist he heard at breakfast one day from his piano teacher, and repeated it all his life: "What's a musicologist? I'll tell you. Our cook, Pasha, prepared the scrambled eggs for us and we are eating them. Now imagine a person who did not cook the eggs and does not eat them, but talks about them--that is a musicologist." Well, we're eating them now, and even cook up a few on occasion, as when we do a little discreet composing to make a fragmentary piece performable. Now, if we could only sell them..."

[the end]

interesting conclusion. reaffirming conversational tone and a joke? and an ellipsis? that's fascinating.

Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 348-349.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 347-348.

2009-11-02T17:54:00.002-06:00

[continuing page 347]

"Some may be wondering now who it is I'm really thinking of. But I am thinking of no individual; I am thinking of a little bit of each of us. We all share these attitudes to some extent if we are at all alive to our own time. Do I seem then to be generally skeptical of historical reconstructionism or of musicology as an ally of performance? Nothing could be further from the truth, as I hope my own activities testify. But I am skeptical of the complacency with which difficult issues are often addressed, and I do deplore the equation of modernist objectivity with scientific truth."

3. good point. but what does that mean exactly? are some people dead to their time?

4. still having trouble separating the two: does it mean performing unaware? historical context? or something else? especially with early music, how can you perform anything without having researched it? learned from recording?

"To even the score now, and to return to a more personal note, let me attempt to list the assets my musicological training has given me as a performer. At the very top of the list goes curiosity, with its implications, so far as human nature allows, of openmindedness, receptivity to new ideas and love of experiment. It is in this spirit that I believe investigations of past performance practices should be conducted. Let us indeed try out everything we may learn about in every treatise, every archival document, every picture, every literary description, and the more adventurously the better. But let us not do it in a spirit of dutiful self-denial or with illusions that the more knowledge one garners, the fewer decisions one will have to make. Let us accept from the scholar in us only that which genuinely excites the performer in us, if for no other reason than because both the attractive and the unattractive finding are equally likely to be wrong. Above all, let us not be afraid, as Rose Rosengard Subotnik recently put it with respect to criticism, to "acknowledge our own presence" in our work and to accept it, if for no other reason than because it is in the final analysis inescapable. The suspension of personality in a modernist performance immediately stamps the performance as such, and is therefore paradoxically tantamount to an assertion of personality. We impose our esthetic on Bach, no less than Liszt, Busoni or even Stokowski."

1. consistently universal to personal examples/ideas/points: is this author's choice, or does it strengthen argument?

2.-6. CITE.

7. look up Rose Rosengard Subotnik

[page 348]

"The second great advantage musicological training confers is knowledge of what there is and where to find it. When one has mastered a scholar's bibliographical and paleographical skills, one need not be limited by the vagaries of editors and publishers. But there too there is an attendant pitfall in the form of an overly bibliographical approach to programming. I have in mind the kind of program that starts off with sixteen settings of J'ay pris amours, followed by one bassadanza from each of five collections, and finally a Machaut ballade performed with two voices, then three voices, then four voices, as it is transmitted in three different sources. These are seminar reports in sound, not concert programs. And another didactic programming pitfall is the practice, once far more widespread than it is now (as those who attended the Josquin Festival-Conference ten years ago may recall) of presenting a kind of analysis of a piece in lieu of a performance of it--for example, changing the scoring of an isorhythmic motet on each talea, or bringing out by hook or crook the cantus firmus of any mass or motet. In either event, the performer takes it upon himself to throw into relief something the composer in many cases took elaborate pains to conceal, and is being the very opposite of authentic, however the term is construed. We tend, many of us, particularly those of us who teach music history for our daily bread, to turn our concerts into classrooms, and I know from personal experience that no performer's bad habit born of musicology is more difficult to break. It is a case of the scholar's conscience once more, this time actually masquerading as the performer's imagination."

1. exactly!

2. unless teaching or leading others less early-music-geek oriented. in that case, make a list of reliable editors/editions: anything by McGee, certainly. but others? include this, or just discuss the issue?

3. and to research--as Bagby discusses: we spend so much time researching, we never (or little) end up performing. how to cap this? especially easily-distracted-by-shiny-objects author writing this...

6. ? why would you do that? but is there a medieval/monophonic parallel and do we do it?

8. RED LIGHT: keep this in mind!!! where to draw the line, though? I think maybe the audience is the huge factor, but still maybe some variances in a program? balance of accessibility, perhaps. keep in mind as well advice: "3'30" attention span" and "not everyone likes listening to hours of chant and few do."

Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 347-348.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 345-347.

2009-11-01T11:42:00.003-06:00

[continuing page 345]

"This is a very easy trap to fall into. Our training as scholars gives us very precise and efficient ways of dealing with generalities. We have a vocabulary for them, and the process of framing them invokes reassuringly scientific methods and criteria, many of them quantitative and exact. We have no such aids in dealing with uniqueness. We have no vocabulary: words can no more give an exact representation of an individual piece of music than they can render an individual face. We have to draw the face and play the piece. But a scholar is never so insecure as when he is at a loss for words. And nothing is less scientific than the evaluation not of quantities but of artistic qualities, the specific details, the "divine details" as Nabokov would say. These must be apprehended by imaginative response, empathetic identification, artistic insight--all euphemisms, of course, for intuition, which word embarrasses and antagonizes the scholar in us. Unwilling to claim intuition as a guide, both for the reason just given and for the reason given a while ago--that it violates our scholarly principles of accountability--we often tend to flee from characterizing the uniqueness of a piece in performance, and seek our refuge in our objective knowledge, which is in all cases a generalized one. Since it is never possible to talk about the unique with the same objectivity as one can about the typical, we are tempted to ignore distinguishing characteristics and instead parade our basic knowledge of style as if it were specific insight. The results are familiar, typified, if you will, by performances of choral masterpieces by Bach or Handel that reduce them to demonstrations of dance tempi, A-415 and (pace Prof. Neumann!) notes inegales. There is a corollary to this in the form of reliance upon authentic editions, authentic instruments or authentic performance practices learned from authentic treatises, in place of careful and sensitive consideration of the music. An actual, if extreme, recent example was an advertising flyer sent out by a New York harpsichordist [page 346] announcing that his would be the first New York performance of the Goldberg Variations from the Neue Bach-Ausgabe. This kind of thing is the performer's analogue to what is regrettably becoming a pair of recognizable type among scholarly papers--the kind that makes an exhaustive physical description of a sketch, both kinds purporting meanwhile to describe "compositional process." This is preparatory work offered as the substance of scholarship. Similarly, a performance that merely sets out to demonstrate that Bach was baroque represents preparatory work, not the substance of performance."

2./3. several questions about my understanding/abilities since this is a new thought: we do have specific language? what?

4./5. can we not think of ways of describing specific pieces? there are ways of describing a specific face--perhaps my constant reference to art explained? if we were to create specific language for uniqueness, what would it be?

9.-11. why can we not describe intuition? can we find ways of articulating what guides our intuition?

12. "notes inegales?"

13. "authentic" how? and is there a way to prioritize "in addition" rather than "in place of" 'careful and sensitive consideration..'

17. more thought on this: 'preparatory' and 'substance'

"But even at their best and most successful--or especially at their best and most successful--historical reconstructionist performances are in no sense recreations of the past. They are quintessentially modern performances, modernist performances in fact, the product of an esthetic wholly of our own era, no less time-bound than the performance styles they would supplant. Like all other modernist philosophies, historical reconstructionism views the work of art, including performing art, as an autonomous object, not as a process, not an activity. It views the internal relationships of the art work as synonymous with its content, and in the case of music it renounces all distinction between sound and substance: to realize the sound is in fact to realize the substance, hence the enormous and, be it said, ofttimes exaggerated concern today for the use of authentic period instruments for all periods. The aim of historical reconstruction is, as Ortega put it, "a scrupulous realization," and as Eliot put it, ". . . not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality," the emotions and the personality escaped from being, of course, those of the performer "as he is at the moment." The artist trades in objective, factual knowledge, not subjective feeling. His aim is not communication with his audience, but something he sees as a much higher, in Eliot's words "much more valuable" goal, communion with Art itself and with its history, and he enlists musicology's aid in achieving it. To return once more to the starting point, this is what is meant today by "letting the music speak for itself." I am describing no monstrosity, no straw man, but an ideal of beauty that inspired many of the greatest creative minds of our century. And it is only in the nature of things that what dominated advanced creative minds half a century ago should be dominating advanced recreative minds today. The paradox and the problem--or is it just my problem?--is that this way of thinking about art and performance has no demonstrable relevance to the ways people thought [page 347] about art and performance before the twentieth century. Applied to the music of the Renaissance and the Baroque, to say nothing of the nineteenth century, it all seems exquisitely anachronistic. And what seems to prove my point is that with the possible exception of the rather ambiguous case of continuo realization, the modern reconstructionist movement has produced many scrupulous realizers of musical notation but has yet to produce a single genuine master of improvisation, which we all know to have been nine-tenths of the Renaissance and Baroque musical icebergs."

1./2. cite

3. do we view historical performance as an object? I have always thought of it as a process--is this wrong?

4. I don't understand this statement; think on it.

7. I would rather connect with an audience--is this a difference of opinion? or am I thinking about it wrongly? why is it "more valuable" to "commune with Art"--and why does this sound like a romanticization of performance? why can't it be free to be "fun?"

10.-12. cite--R and B, though also applies to Medieval.

Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 345-347.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 344-345.

2009-10-31T14:55:00.003-05:00

[continuing page 344]

"In this light, let me return now to the criticisms of Cappella Nova. What was mainly under attack was our approach to phrasing and dynamic, both of which are very sharply profiled in our performances, and which from the very beginning have always been singled out by our hearers either for praise or for blame. The origins of the approach lie, I have no hesitation in admitting, in my own subjective response to the nature of the lines in complex, melismatic and polyphonic textures. I know of no specific historical sanction for it, except insofar as subjective responses of contemporary hearers have been occasionally and vaguely recorded. In the absence of hard evidence I felt not only free but duty-bound to invent an approach. Or, to put things a they really happened, it was because this approach to phrasing and dynamics in me during my period as director of the Columbia University Collegium Musicum, that I felt I had a statement to make about the music and was moved to form Cappella Nova to begin with. Although its origins lay not in certain knowledge but in imagination, the approach is very much an objective feature of Cappella Nova's style. It is an element of what we take to be, and present as, the authentic sound of the music, and its presence is, far from an intrusion, quite necessary if for us the music is, yes, to "speak for itself.""

2. find recording for explanation: phrasing and dynamics.

3. be able to articulate that definitely and clearly for every aspect of a performance. perhaps record and see what appears, make notes, and ask questions

4. cite: same type of thing Bagby discusses, "Early Medieval Harp" in descriptions of Welsh/Cornwall harp players

8. little uncertain about this concept. think on it.

"Those whose scholar's conscience equates silence with prohibition must invariably regard our performances as arbitrary. But what is arbitrary in my view is the flat dynamic and the lack of phrasing, that is, of molding lines to their high points, which characterize so many so-called "objective" performances of Renaissance music. For these derive not from any demonstrable condition or feature of the music or of its historical context, but merely from the state of evidence, over which the performer can exercise no control. Strict accountability thus reduces performance practice to a lottery. It has nothing to do with authenticity. Authenticity stems from conviction. Conviction in turn stems as much from belief as it does from knowledge. Our beliefs--naive or sophisticated, to be sure, depending on the state of our knowledge--are what alone can give us the sense of assurance and of style possessed by those fortunate enough to have behind them an unbroken tradition of performance."

1.-5. I do not understand this--more research on vocal performance techniques in early music. another problem--"early music" performance technique covering how many hundreds of years?

6.-8.. fabulous: cite.

8. possible paper topic

"This brings me to a perhaps even more fundamental caveat. What, after all, is historical method, and to what kind of knowlege does it lead? If we were to reduce it all to a single word, that word would have to be generalization. Style criticism, often held up as the ultimate goal of historical scholarship in music, is above all the abstraction of contexts from cases, the establishment of generalizing criteria. Think of Riemann, for example, of whom we read in The New Grove, that "he was not interested in the individual case as such, but rather in discerning its typicality and its place in the entire system." And of course most properly historical musicological work is either that or it is a preparation for that. But this is as far [page 345] from the performer's mentality as it is possible to be. His concern is only with individual cases, taken one at a time. As George Perle remarked admiringly about Seiji Ozawa, who was performing one of his works at Tanglewood, "When he's playing it his whole repertoire consists of one piece--mine." And here is what Erich Leinsdorf has to say in a recent book which was actually meant as a polemic against interpretive excess: "Every great work is first and last a meaningful musical utterance unlike any other. If it did not have its own unique meaning it would have come and gone and would not be part of our living repertoire." Leinsdorf's words are fighting words, and what he is fighting is what he calls the "sacrifice of the sense of music to a simplistic notion of period style." For him, then, historical reconstruction is just another variety of interpretive excess. But one needn't accept his belligerent equation of style consciousness with simplemindedness to note the real enough danger of our sense of style becoming reductive owing to an insufficient appreciation or response to the uniqueness of individual compositions."

2./3. is this really true?

5. look up Riemann.

6./7.-8. so is a musicologist performer a bridge between the two? and why is this a new thing?

10. "interpretive excess?" is this like "overworking" in art: knowing when to stop and what is "done?"; look up Leinsdorf.

13./14. I don't understand this. think on it.

Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 344-345.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 343-344.

2009-10-31T13:24:00.004-05:00

[continuing page 343]

"Verdi, speaking ironically about the aims of verismo, said, "it's fine to reproduce reality, but how much better to create it." In a similar spirit I would say, "it's fine to assemble the shards of a lost performance tradition, but how much better to reinvent it." Research alone has never given, and is never likely to give (again for obvious reasons) enough information to achieve that wholeness of conception and that sureness of style--in a word, that fearlessness--any authentic, which is to say authoritative, performance must embody. Here is a paradox: which is more "authentic," an historical reconstructionist performance of, say, Messiah, or a Three Choirs Festival performance? Which, in other words, enjoys the commonality of work, performer, and (lest we forget) audience, the certainty of experience and of expectation that lends the proceedings the "cool, inevitable intention" Jeffrey Mark described? The Three Choirs performance surely speaks for a culture, not Handel's perhaps, but that of the performers and their audience, certainly. It gives what Eliot called a sense "not only of the pastness of the past, but its presence." The modernist, avant-garde, historical reconstruction of Messiah can only evoke the pastness of the past, and will therefore appeal not to the esthetic sense but merely to antiquarian curiosity--unless it derives its sustenance not only from whatever evidence musicological research may provide, but from imaginative leaps that will fill in the gaps research by its very nature must leave. Otherwise we will have not a performance but a documentation of the state of knowledge. As long as the reconstructionist performer holds himself to the same strict standards of accountability we rightly demand of any scholar, his efforts will be bent not on doing what the music was meant to do, but on simply "getting it right," that is, on achieving what the mainstream performer takes for granted. He will end up, if he is lucky, with what the mainstream performer starts out with."

1. verismo: realism in the arts, esp. late 19th c. Italian opera; no particular fondness for Verdi, but cite that quote.; continued comparisons to examples strictly within the history of western classical music--is this because of author's experience, or does the scholarly community find this more authoritative? is there a way to include both for a more persuasion?

2. "it's fine ... better to reinvent it." completely intriguing. and mixed feelings. one side--yes, the freedom to complete the historical puzzle in entirely imaginative/individualistic way, so it is fun and new and "mine." but wary of "reinvent"- just how much are we reappropriating and how much are we reconstructing and how much are doing because we "like it?" at what point does it move from "historically informed performance" to "new music on nostalgic topic?" and would either be legitimate? but either way, know what you're doing and why.

3. extremely thought provoking-more on this: can I relate that "wholeness of conception and sureness of style" to traditional music, Irish mainly?--possible paper topic

4. cite for thesis.

5. question for each performance/performer/audience

7. beautiful Eliot quote.

8. - 11. cite--excellent source.

"The most authoritative and compelling reconstructionist performances of old music, as well as the most controversial, have always been those that have proceeded from a vividly imagined--that is frankly to say imaginary--but coherent performance style. They provide themselves with Tradition, in the Eliot sense, and bestow authenticity upon themselves. Where such performers do not know the composer's intentions they are unafraid to have intentions of their own, and to treat them with a comparable respect. I suppose I am thinking now of the performances of the Early Music Quartet and some recent ones by the Concentus Musicus among those I have heard, and among those I have not, of the radical reconstructionist performance of Messiah given in Ann Arbor under Edward Parmentier last year, which [page 344] I know only by enthusiastic rumor, and by reports of the uproar it created among some of the scholars in attendance."

2./3. PERFECT-- cite

4. look up Early Music Quartet and Concentus Musicus

5. tend to find "uproar" by scholars usually means a fantastic performance--is this a goal? and for what reasons?

Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 343-344.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 342-343.

2009-10-31T09:27:00.002-05:00

[picking up page 342]

"We usually trace the origins of modern musicology to romantic historicism. But it seems to me that musicological ideals of performance style owe as much if not more to the modernist esthetic that rose to dominance out of the ashes of the First World War. We in music usually think of it as the "Stravinskian" esthetic, though it had been anticipated with astonishing, if cranky, completeness as early as Hanslick's The Beautiful in Music. It is often described, after Ortega y Gasset, as "dehumanization," but since that word (though meant by Ortega with approval) carries such unpleasant overtones, I prefer to use T. S. Eliot's term, depersonalization, defined as "the surrender of [the artist] as he is at the moment to something much more valuable," that thing being Tradition, which as Eliot warns us, "cannot be inherited, and if you want it you must obtain it by great labour." And why do we in music want it? So that our performances may capture something of what the folklorist Jeffrey Mark so percipiently described half a century ago in an article entitled "The Fundamental Qualities of Folk Music," but which is actually the best characterization I know of the modernist esthetic as applied to music:
The Performer, whether as singer, dancer, or player, does his part without giving any or much impression that he is participating in the act. And his native wood notes wild, far from giving the popularly conceived effect of a free and careless improvisation, show him definitely to be in the grip of a remorseless and comparatively inelastic tradition which gives him little or no scope for personal expression (again as popularly conceived). Through him the culture speaks, and he has neither the desire nor the specific comprehension to mutilate what he has received. His whole attitude and manner [is] one of profound gravity and cool, inevitable intention. There [is] not the faintest suggestion of the flushed cheek and the sparkling eye. And [the performance] is ten times the more impressive because of it."

wow, kicker paragraph--cite this for years
1./2. romantic historicism/modernist esthetic: more on this; "musicological ideals of performance style" meaning? are these ideals commonly employed across all idioms?

3. cranky?; look up Hanslick, Beautiful in Music;

4. Eliot quote-an amazing articulation, though question the "depersonalization:"
I can understand the romanticized/poetic aspect of 'losing' yourself in the music, but is that really what happens? at least in the way of 'depersonalization?' I would have said that instead of the tradition swallowing our personalities, but maybe more that it is because of the enveloping Tradition that personal characteristics are highlighted: "spices," if you like. maybe that's wrong--more on this.

Mark, Jeffrey. "The Fundamental Qualities of Folk Music." Music & Letters vol. 10/no. 3 (July 1929): 287-291.

"So here at last is the real challenge my critic issued me in the encounter I began by describing: "Let the culture speak for itself." Ah, would that we could, for this is what real authenticity is, the kind Eliot wrote about, not what Michael Morrow called the "contemporary cult meaning" of the word, which really amounts to little more than time-travel nostalgia. The trouble is that the artifacts of past culture with which Eliot dealt are still intact and available in a way that musical artifacts obviously can never be. [page 343] Music has to be imaginatively recreated in order to be retrieved, and here is where conflicts are likely to arise between the performer's imagination and the scholar's conscience, even (or especially) when the two are housed in a single mind."

2."time-travel nostalgia"--wow, what an intriguing thought. how to combat this: 'feel' it.

4. cite, intriguing, just all around awesome; "imaginatively recreated in order to be retrieved"- fascinating thought. does successful performance mean successful 'retrieval' or could it be successful in other ways as well?; historical performance: marriage between "performer imagination" and "scholarly imagination," but does the compromise have to be 50/50? not all are, certainly, but do we really want that to be the goal?

excerpts taken from Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 342-343.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 341-342.

2009-10-30T14:00:00.006-05:00

[continuing page 341]

"My next example stems from personal experience. I once sat in as page turner at a rehearsal of Elliott Carter's Duo for violin and piano under the composer's supervision. He couldn't have been less helpful. Whenever the performers sought guidance on matters of balance or tempo, his reply was invariable, "I don't know, let's see . . . ," and then he would join them in seeking solutions, as often asking their advice as they his. At one point, when the performers were having some difficulty with his very finicky rhythmic notation, Carter said (so help me), "For heaven's sake don't count--just feel it." At the end of the rehearsal he commented that every performance of the Duo was very different from every other one, but that "whichever one I'm hearing always seems the best." So much for intentions. If that was Carter's attitude, what do you suppose Ockeghem would have cared about Cappella Nova's ficta? We seem to be committing another "intentional fallacy" here, trying, just as Wimsatt and Beardsley said we should never do, to solve our problems by "consulting the oracle.""

1. note that personal experience followed historical examples.

3./5."he couldn't have been less helpful" and "Carter said (so help me), ... just feel it," these are implying a certain priority that is inherently personal and not necessarily an indication of how "helpful" they were. "feeling it" is the way some people perform--reference two-year old djembe youtube video; is there a scholarly article on this topic?

8. Do we think that we are making a performance that actually sounds like what Ockeghem would have made? or recognized? interesting thought. more on this subject.

9. YES!!; look up Wimsatt and Beardsley; this is the kind of thing Bagby discusses in "Imagining Early Medieval Harp" article--thinking, researching, justifying, and not playing (as much).

"It seems to me that much of what I will make bold to characterize as the "musicological" attitude toward performance is based on consulting the oracle in an even more spurious, because roundabout, way. We tend to assume that if we can recreate all the external conditions that obtained in the original performance of a piece we will thus recreate the composer's inner experience of the piece and thus allow him to speak for himself. In a lecture I recently attended on the staging of one of Verdi's operas in Paris, a great deal of fascinating detail was recounted on all of the vicissitudes encountered in the course of mounting the work an in making it conform to the special demands of the Paris Opera. The point was constantly reiterated that every aspect of the production was completely documented in surviving records, so that one could revive the work tomorrow just as it was being described. I ventured to ask as the end of the lecture why this would be desirable, and I was told, with eyebrows raised and voice pitched high to show how obvious the answer was, that in this way the composer's intentions would be realized. And this after a lecture in which it had just been demonstrated that the intentions realized in the original production had belonged to many, not just Verdi, and that in a large number of instances the composer's intentions had been overruled and frustrated."

2. wow, that is fabulous: external conditions=composer's inner experience. more on this subject *possible paper on this?* but why the composer?

cite Verdi example--pg. 341--on justifying performance practice choices: example of how one cannot reconstruct composer's intentions (or other criteria) and the actual performance

"So why do we consult the oracle? A simple answer, the usual answer, is that we want our performances to be authentic. But that is no answer. What is this thing called authenticity and why do we want it? While most of us would by now agree with the premise, so elegantly and humorously set forth by Michael Morrow in Early Music a few years ago, that authenticity of the kind we usually have in mind when talking musicologically about performance practice is a chimaera, most of us are nevertheless no [page 342] more deterred by this realization from seeking it than was Bellerophon himself. Again I ask, why?"

5. Morrow, Michael. "Musical Performance and Authenticity." Early Music vol.I/no.2 (1978), 233-46. --fabulous article on justifying modern performance.

6. cannot continue in this process until personal answer to that question is found--mention: introduction

excerpts taken from Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 341-342.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 340-341.

2009-10-29T17:31:00.003-05:00

[continuing page 340]

"In short, music can never under any circumstances but electronic speak for itself. In the case of notated music there is always a middle man, even if it is only ourselves as we contemplate the written symbols. And if anyone still doubts this, let him drop in on any analysis symposium."

what?
'case of notated music...' as opposed to? oral/aural music, in which there is no 'middle man?'

"But even if impossible to realize absolutely, "letting the music speak for itself" may still be a worthy ideal to aspire toward. What does it mean, though? For the moment, let us assume it means realizing the composer's intentions as far as our knowledge of them permits. What we are really being told, then, is to let the composer speak for himself. I will not rehearse here the familiar epistemological impediments to learning the what the composer's intentions were, especially a composer as remote from us as Ockeghem, whose music it was that I was enjoined to let speak for itself."

3. ah. answer. that is a legitimate definition: (I just choose a different one.) as this applies to early music, it will mean a specific vein of performance choices. think of what those specific choices might be. how are they different than what I would do, and why did I choose that instead? thesis note: include the problem, but not multiple solutions; give the beginner one choice, reasons, and the resources to decide their own opinion later.

4./5. epistemology: investigation of what distinguishes justified belief from opinion; in this case, then why make that particular performance choice to 'realize composer's intentions?'

"I wish to go a bit further and suggest that in many if not most instances composers do not even have the intentions we would like to ascertain. And I am not even talking about what are sometimes called "high level" versus "low level" intention, that is, specific intentions with regard to individual pieces as opposed to assumptions based on prevailing conditions the composer took for granted. No, I mean something even more fundamental: that composers' concerns are different from performers' concerns, and that once the piece is finished, the composer regards it and relates to it either as a performer if he is one, or else simply as a listener. I'll give a few examples."

2. "assumptions ... took for granted" very good point. what would some of these be and how could we apply it to historical performance?

3. that is a fabulous idea: even composers can't have 'composers' concerns' anymore and must approach it as a performer themselves. not composing myself, I would never have considered this.

"One is Irving Berlin, who once said of Fred Astaire, "I like him because he doesn't change my songs, or if he does, he changes them for the better." Another is Debussy again. He said to George Copeland on their first meeting that he never thought he'd hear his piano music played so well during his lifetime. No question then that Copeland's playing realized the composer's intentions to the latter's satisfaction. On another occasion, though, Debussy asked Copeland why he played the opening of Reflets dans l'eau the way he did. Copeland's response was that old performer's standby, calculated to make any musicologist see red: "Because I feel it that way." To which Debussy replied that as for himself he felt it differently, but that Copeland must go on playing it as he, Copeland, felt it. So once the pianist's credentials as a Debussy performer were established, his performances were accepted by the composer as being no less [page 341] authoritative than his own. Debussy, as pianist, was in his own eyes only one interpreter among others."

1. great point: the composer is heralding a change that is for the better--what implications in this example can be used for justification in historical performance?

6. this is something to keep in mind: as a performer the way you feel it is a legitimate performance choice, but can you think about ways to articulate reasons for why you felt it that way? It's as Teacher says, we are trained musicians, and there is going to be a reason for why we like certain decisions; it's just many of us have never asked it of ourselves before.

7. also important point related to the last section, where performer's choice is legitimate even to the composer: Tarusin's point?

8. I disagree with this statement--not that it isn't a fact or the nature of performance--but just on principal, doing homework is doing homework regardless of established credentials. reference Sting's lute cd: is he an established lute player? and yet, many people with disapprove of that album on exactly those grounds. think on it.

excerpts taken from Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 340-341.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, Cont'd.

2009-10-29T12:02:00.003-05:00

[picking up page 339]

"It seems a curious request to make of a performer, to "let the music speak for itself." If a performer did not have the urge to participate in it and, yes, to contribute to it, why then he wouldn't have become a performer in the first place. The only time I could recall being told previously to "let the music speak for itself" was when I played the opening movement of Bach's B-minor French Suite to my piano teacher many years ago and ventured a few ornaments."

1. only in a classical mindset; from the standpoint of traditional music (specifically from my experience in Irish traditional music, or reference Bagby article, "Imagining the Early Medieval Harp," discussing Shona music) there is a lot about 'letting the tradition speak,' 'getting out of your own way and letting the music speak,' etc. It is not a new, controversial, or degrading statement--it simply is a part of the development.

2. is this operating under the implication that in 'letting the music speak for itself,' we lose all individual contribution? This seems to me an impossible assumption--definition: "letting...itself?" must be different than mine.

"Most of the time the idea of letting the music speak for itself implies hostility, contempt, or at least mistrust of performer. It is what Brahms had in mind, for example, when he declined an invitation to the opera saying that if he sat at home with the score he'd hear a better performance. Or think of Stravinsky, with all his raillery against "interpretation," or Milton Babbitt, when describing his motives for adopting electronic media as a way of compensating for what he called the "low redundancy" of his music. All three composers seem to share a view of performers as undesirable middle men, whose elimination would further communication between composer and audience. But only in Babbitt's case was letting the music speak for itself in this way a practicable alternative."

1. why? where is this coming from? is this a question of ego in performance that we so commonly and unconsciously tend towards? if so, how would we combat this--traditional stance is one answer: the tradition is bigger than you, and will survive long after, etc. or possibly devise exercises that get out of 'me' headspace: reference, Eloise Ristad. A Soprano on Her Head: Right-Side Up Reflections on Life and Other Performances. Moab, UT, Real People Press: 1982.

2./3. Brahms/Stravinsky/Babbitt: note all examples taken after the "composer as high priest" era. still *huge* issue today: how do we move early musicians out of the 'composer intentions' mindset: well, we mostly don't know the composer, have the choice of reconstructing performance, process, or reception--but not all three, and point out the amount of personal decisions to be made by performer.

4. the same has been said by theorists for generations, only the goal was different; Greeks on stratifying musical hierarchy: performers at the bottom, Occitan noblemen dressing in "common minstrel garb" to play music, etc. --reference Elizabeth Aubrey, Music of the Troubadours (2000) and Poets and Singers, "Joglars and the professional status of the early troubadours," Ruth E. Harvey (Aubrey-editor).

"Stravinsky, for his part, was moved by his mistrust of performers to become one himself, so as to document his music first in piano rolls and then in recordings and thus achieve the inviolable musical "object" he sought. The only trouble was that whenever Stravinsky documented his performances more than once he created quite different objects, particularly with regard to tempo, which was always the main object of documentation to begin with. Moreover, Stravinsky's recorded tempi were almost always faster than his indications in the score, sometimes by a truly bewildering margin, as in the case of Zvezdoliki, Which I single out because Stravinsky referred to his recording of that piece as a particularly successful documentation. So Stravinsky, sitting at home with the score like Brahms, heard a performance that was if not better, then at least consistently slower than the ones he himself produced in actual sound. His efforts at documentation have only produced a confusing problem for those who would obey his wishes. "

1. "musical 'object'" huge topic--will constantly combat this in a music intended to vary; in a music intensely personal with very different individual versions.

2.-5. no idea what "Zvezdoliki" is-look up; difficult to see multiple performance discrepancies as "confusing problem" for performers. is this because of my experience in not having a composer available? or performance training? does the fact that they exist not intrinsically validate a performer's intuitive instincts?

"But the problems he created are as nothing next to those created by such pianist composers as Debussy or Prokofiev, whose performances on rolls and records [page 340] are so widely at variance with their notation that no one could get away with copying them (as I found out when I took a Gavotte by Prokofiev to another piano teacher). As for Brahms himself, even if we allow that his remark amounted to no more than persiflage, we may ask nonetheless whether the better performance he heard was better because it was more faithful to the music in some obscure way, or because it perfectly suited his tastes as another's rendition could not?"

6. again, why does variation make it difficult to realize composer's intentions? they are the ones varying--does that not prove an intent for variation? why must there be one version? is this the idea of the commodity and "right recording" asserting itself? and why on earth is the notation the correct version? I know that that is a very common presumption, but isn't this music?

7. I do not understand his distinction between a performance "faithful to the music" and one "perfectly suited to his tastes." Did Brahms not compose it himself, so are they not the same thing? and as a performer, would it not make the performance stronger to play in a way "perfectly suited to [one's] tastes?"

excerpts taken from Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 339-340.

Marginalia Series, Pilot Episode: Richard Taruskin, "On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance"

2009-10-28T18:16:00.005-05:00

all right. This is a trial post, requested by a friend. I have never offered my personal notes up for public viewing in their original random, shorthanded form, much less collated into a recognizable order, or words, but I did mean it when I said that I didn't think it mattered about being slow or quick. so here goes. As most of you who read this know, I am working on a thesis: history and development, introductory performance method, and research list for the medieval fiddle, or vielle. and, until recently, have been making research/writing notes on the articles that I have been using. As I also say, I have been requested by fellow Bow Buddy to make this into a blog post. Well, we can try it out. I don't know how much use they might be to someone else, but if they are, then my blessings. and I'm sure it will be a growing opportunity for me. if I can manage the pace. also, please be sure to remember that these are my thoughts and ideas, not judgements, and if I didn't respect the author or the potential student reading the thesis, I wouldn't waste my time making obsessive notes about it.

Ok, for the first iteration, something short: only 10 pages. Richard Taruskin's article, ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance," The Journal of Musicology vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 338-349. (ok, 11 pages) found on JSTOR here, though password protected, so will appear as first page. I am not sure exactly how to go about this without the physical document to make notes on (hence printing), but will experiment, and I guess will see how much can go into one post as we go along as well. and it will probably vary. To note, all you who are new to my marginalia, there are (mostly) three areas in which I draw attention to myself: 1) relevancy to topic (here, the vielle history and performance) 2) writing techniques/devices used by the author and 3) further investigation--either thought provoking, and I must now 'ponder' or I just don't know what it means and must now look it up. or both.

(page 338)

"The title of this article may suggest that I will give a state-of-the-art report on the relationship between musicology and performance or else outline a program for the future development of that relationship. But neither would be worth my while to prepare nor yours to read. Things are going well. Never, it seems, have scholars and performers worked so closely and happily together or learned more from each other, nor have so many ever before combined the roles as successfully as now. Musicologically trained performers are proliferating in graduate programs around the country. Historical performance practice is now a recognized sub-discipline both of academic musicology and of conservatory curricula. When Mr. Henahan of the New York Times can devote a Sunday column to the merits of historical instruments, or when Mr. Rockwell of the same paper, in a glowing review of Pomerium Musices, can actually list among the group's assets that its director is a musicologist, we may all take some justifiable satisfaction in going at last off the defensive vis-a-vis the press and, let us hope, the public. May this trend of recognition continue. We've all worked hard for it, we deserve it, and everything I say here is meant to abet it."

exordium certainly
(sentence numbers)
1. uses personal pronouns, but then he's Richard Taruskin; why start out saying what it doesn't cover? is this a rhetorical device? fabulous hook--"well, what is it on then?;"

2. separated the clause: emphasis, but why--time? energy? importance?

3./4. 'scholars' and 'performers' being separate entities is a foreign idea to me, for thesis: mention that v student needs to know how to be both to be a 'historically informed performer;' how did they combine before?; unsuccessful in performance or scholarship or both, and in defining "unsuccessful:" brings up the fact that there are different schools of performance beliefs.

5./6. 'recognized sub-discipline' under which of these schools?; look up various places--under personal/departmental guidance, like ours? in that case, departmental policy, performance school, will inform musical lineage

7.-9. I do not understand this: 'group's assets ... musicologist,' 'going at last off the defensive,' this has been a problem? if so, look up. Is this in just the area of historical performance or musicology as a whole?

"But at the same time I should like, as it were among friends, to examine what Charles Rosen has recently call the 'peculiar metaphysical and ontological assumptions' that underly much current thinking about musicology and performance, or musicology-cum-performance, or even musicology versus performance. And if much of what follows sounds like an apologia pro vita sua, and therefore immodest, it is because I feel that the only way for me, as a musicologist performer, honestly to approach the question of musicology and performance, is to look within."

1. again separate clause; going out of his way to be conversational, 'as it were among friends;' Charles Rosen-I have no idea who this is; metaphysical: 'transcending physical matter or laws of nature'/ontological: 'nature of being;' musicology and/cum/versus performance- rhetorical device. incredibly thought provoking: musicology versus performance. If you separate the two--how on earth do you do that?--is it still not a part of the musicology as a whole, it is just a way of justifying a performance choice ? 'cannot exist in a vacuum;' further research: musicology/performance

2. no idea what the hell "apologia pro vita sua' means; answer: does not want to sound 'immodest,' hence conversational mode of writing; also, admittance and emphasis on the personal "I feel the only way for me... is to look within." plot point, plot point: justification for school of performance belief and reference to metaphysics. "within" as within the performer as a legitimate source for historical performance approach. not everyone will agree with this statement.

"So let me take as my point of departure a little colloquy I had some time ago with a graduate student at Columbia. He claimed that performances of Renaissance sacred music by Cappella Nova, the choral group I direct, were arbitrary and overly personal, and that I would be better advised to "let the music speak for itself." Well I can tell you that his remarks rankled in their implication of irresponsibility. I do my homework, after all. I edit the music we perform from its original sources, or at least from pedigreed [page 339] Gesamtausgaben, I have read up on musica ficta, on text underlay, on proportions, and we do not gussy up the music with instruments. Yet I knew just what the fellow meant, and also realized that his view of our work was widely shared among scholars, or at least among graduate students. Debating the matter with him did me good. It made me examine my own premises with greater detachment than before, and made me attempt to separate my own musicological attitudes from my performer's attitudes--something I rarely do consciously, any more than I am separately aware of inhaling and exhaling."

whoa. end of exordium, beginning narratio.
2a. 'performances... arbitrary and overly personal." hold it. (first of all, graduate student telling this to Taruskin?? FAIL) question of 'authenticity' and 'authority'--this will be needed for any and all steps taken on the road to performance, and will be questioned and requestioned, agreed with and not. always have your answer available and know what you believe/agree with and don't.; refer to Kivy's book Authenticities and Taruskin's articles, "Authenticity" and "Tradition and Authority;"

2b. "let the music speak for itself." there could be unending meanings for this: coming from a traditional music, this makes perfect sense, and yet this tradition is broken. exists in two areas: what we can find out about, and traditions that have been built on other performers borrowing from traditions, vernacular and classical. reference Leo Treitler, With Voice and Pen "Chapter 12: Historyand the Ontology of the Musical Work," and Ben Bagby article in A Performer's Guide to Medieval Music, "Imagining the Early Medieval Harp."

5. no idea what "Gesamtausgaben" means; list of qualifications for 'historical performance:' 'we do not gussy up the music with instruments' wow. legitimate statement, and yet we know that at one time, instrumentalists did accompany non-liturgical sacred music (check in Yudkin, Music in Medieval Europe: liturgical sacred music as well.) so why is it now "gussied up" to have instrumentalists--where did this aesthetic come from?

6. very good point, and everyone is going to have to deal with those scholars, so begin to find ways to answer it. how do we articulate it in practice, and how do we teach someone else the process of creating those arguments? 1) decide what you do believe and why you believe it--it will change probably constantly though fundamental areas might stay constant. it will probably be easier to go performance by performance at first. an outline helps 2) know the historical and the personal aspects of the performance 3) choose a model, or precedent performance, for the sections that might be questioned/contested

excerpts taken from Taruskin, Richard. ""On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance." The Journal of Musicology, vol.1/no.3 (July 1982): 338-339.

Quintilian's Treatise Proposal, Part the First

2009-10-26T08:16:00.004-05:00

further proof that we follow in the footsteps of history, and if he had to do it...
[italics mine. full citation at the bottom.]

"When at last I won leisure for my studies, which for twenty years I had devoted to the training of the young, some friends asked me to write something on the theory of oratory. I resisted for a long time, because I knew that some very famous authors, in both Greek and Latin, had left to posterity many very carefully composed works relevant to this subject. But the reason that made me think I should have an easier excuse for saying no served only to inflame their enthusiasm. They urged that there was a difficulty in choosing between the different and in some instances contradictory opinions of my predecessors. They seemed therefore to be justified in imposing upon me the task of passing judgement on old ideas, if not of discovering new ones. I was moved to comply not so much because I felt confident that I could meet their requirements, but because I was ashamed to refuse. However, as the subject opened up more widely, I voluntarily undertook a heavier load than was being imposed upon me, partly to oblige my loving friends by fuller compliance, and partly to avoid going along the beaten track and finding myself merely treading in others' footsteps. For almost all others who have committed their teaching on the art of oratory to writing have started with the assumption that their pupils were perfect in every other branch of learning, and that they simply had to add the finishing touch; this was either because they despised the earlier stages of education as trivial, or because they thought they were not their concern (the roles of the professions being distinct), or, most probably, because they had no hope of winning favour for their talents by dealing with subjects which, however necessary, are very far from being showy--just as, in buildings, the rooftops are seen, but the foundations are hidden. For my part, however--holding as I do that nothing is foreign to the art or oratory which must be admitted to be essential for the making of an orator, and that one cannot reach the top in any subject without going through the elementary stages--I shall certainly not refuse to stoop to those matters which, though minor, cannot be neglected without blocking the way to greater things. I shall proceed exactly as if a child were put into my hands to be educated as an orator, and shall plan his studies from his infancy."

from Quintilian. The Orator's Education: Books 1-2. Edited and Translated by Donald A. Russell. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001. pgs. 53, 55--skipping sections in original Latin.

Get Better, Dammit

2009-10-24T15:43:00.005-05:00

ok, I have put this post off as long as I can and now have to suspend 'pompous ass musings' and commence worrying about Flute Friend. NOTE: no panicking, nothing horrible has happened, and in fact, things are slowly getting better. I (and I'm sure many of we other long distance types) have not succumbed earlier because of teacher-friends', Dharmonia and Coyotebanjo, regular updates.

I have to say that we all know how healthy and strong our friend is, and how rotten the whole situation has to be--I have seen him come into a smoky session with pneumonia and bronchitis and still plays the flute with no noticeable difference, so I know what it means when something takes him down. and I have some things to say about it:

Doctors: Take good care of him and know that there are many people on multiple continents who love him dearly, that cannot stand to see him down and out like this, and, if you screw up, you will be answering to.
Nurses: please keep doing what you're doing.
Teacher-Friends: Thank God for you.
Super Trooper GF: you are amazing, seriously deserve a spa/massage/whatever weekend when this is all over, and please accept a 3000 mile hug

and Flute Friend: see title. and I fully expect a big hug and a good cry (on one side anyway) when I see you next, on your feet and laughing at me, at this year's CC.

Happiness: to choose and to improve

2009-10-24T06:41:00.005-05:00

I have never been able to stay unhappy or truly dislike something for long. If I have to do something, I'm going to like it. It's been a particularly helpful defense mechanism that has gotten me through some less than ideal situations in the past and continues to be a boon for my graduate studies. I dearly love what I'm doing, and the more I spend my time writing, performing, and teaching, the more I find out that this is exactly what I want to be doing. The things that I shied away from in the beginning, I am learning to love doing them. It's a wonderful realization that just gets better the more you think about it.

and yet, not everyone does--that fact alone confuses me terribly. Why do we focus on negative things that bother us so much, when we could just as easily focus on the positive things. Being in school is not about being qualified or unqualified, fast or slow, smart or stupid--honestly, the more I learn, the more stupid I feel, but does it really matter? Everyone is different, of course, but for me: no, it doesn't matter. I still understand roughly have of the material I go through, and misconstrue instructions and intentions left and right. but I get to think on it, "ponder," as my grandfather would say. If I never get there, so be it. I'll have multiple competitions and debates with myself, and certainly will not stop trying. I want to learn; I want to know; I want to do this the right way. and of course, we in school, grad or otherwise, are unqualified right now; that's kind of the point. if we were, why would we need to be here? and judging yourself on the output or pace of someone else isn't a measure of intelligence, it will just

I also realize that many people in this situation with me, can't or choose not to see it this way. I find that it is a great deal easier to say, "It's the way I am and can't help it," than to deal with and look through the personal baggage implied when admitting, "I choose to be this way." and I will even fess up to the fact that I feel like a complete 'pompous ass' for saying it, but I'm afraid that it's true. We're getting into the 'half term' section of the semester here, and panic is running rampant for the previous weeks spent procrastinating. If I didn't tell you that I was in a different country, would you know? It is very little different than what happens at my home university.

Of course, here, I am mostly outside the system looking in, but I still cannot understand why people are so unhappy. "Unhappy" here in the sense of stressing out to the point of complete mental breakdown over minute details, worrying so much over 'failure' that sleep is impossible, putting things off until throwing it all away and running is a much more favorable activity, etc., etc. Sometimes I think "Utter Self-Inflicted Misery" would be a more accurate descriptor, but 'unhappy' is shorter. and sounds better. Anyway, while we all want to sit in the corner thinking we're only ones to ever experience this, and like the famous quote on sickness, "No, of course I am the first to have these symptoms: they are much worse, have never been combined in this way, and will eventually be designated a new disease and named after me," it really just isn't true. Talk to anyone who has gone through this process, and I can very nearly guarantee that they will say they can relate to most, if not all of these kinds of experiences. I certainly have and do still at times, but perspective is one of your best tools in this business.

I like being happy. I like laughing at myself. At the moment, any time I start falling into the visceral black hole of "I suck" misery, I think on the Related Research Fiasco (and similar experiences like the Forgotten Conclusion Catastrophe) and start giggling. It's remarkably difficult to be upset while you're giggling. and as long as you can put the computer (containing the latest iterations of whatever writing most vulnerable to deletion) down and walk away while in that mood, it usually turns out all right. I'm still learning that one, unfortunately, but maybe I'm gaining on it. Either way, I'm sitting here on a rainy Saturday afternoon, tea in hand, revising a (second draft) proposal and making headway into notation, all the while about to burst with happiness that I get to do this. woof.

musings

2009-10-21T08:32:00.003-05:00

You know, there are days that you leap out of bed and wonder why on Earth you're feet are still touching the ground, and then there are the days when you collect and put back together all of your body parts from where they have scattered themselves while you were sleeping (eyes-stop playing chase games in my head, knees-I'm sorry, dears, but you are going to have to bend now). Although, I will say that is somewhat nicer to have other people agreeing that it is cold, and perhaps the Texan is not quite so out of place in hat/coat/scarf/gloves. Suddenly now we are all wearing them, even if certain unnamed people just happen to keep it on inside.

It is now full Autumn, and even though I have watched it as carefully as I know, I still find myself thinking, when did all this happen? Of course, it is absolutely beautiful. I have forgotten how beautiful deciduous trees are when the chlorophyll dies. We went walking in some of just such trees this past weekend. There is, I think, little better than walking in nature with great people. This particular group included three of the most adorable children that I think I've seen. Everything was a new experience and could be made into a game, and catching up with the adults, we entered discussions on music. I'd say, "the craic was ninety," but it would be a bit of an understatement.

As a photographer, I discovered a while back that an attempt to take pictures of vast expanses, or some sense of impressive space, is virtually impossible. You nearly cannot convey effectively the feeling of being there by capturing the scene as it is presented in life. There is a quote from a horribly-romantic-chick-flick-type movie where the characters are discussing views from a house to be put up for sale and the female love interest asks which one the male lead wants a picture of, and he says,

-"Oh, I don't know, all of them."
-"More isn't always better, Linus. Sometimes it's just more. [hands him the camera] Here, see for yourself."
-"[sigh] Ocean, ocean, ocean, quaint little fishing village, ocean, ocean, lighthouse--gotta have one of the lighthouse. Now, there's a job for you; what kind of person takes a job at a lighthouse..."

Now, I don't stand up for the movie, really. I enjoy it for what it is, but that line and its context present a great truth about photography that quite cannot be described, or believed if tried, without experiencing it. It is always my goal when taking pictures of really impressive, beautiful places to sacrifice the collective whole for the feeling that such a place gives a person in it.

Of course, saying that, I didn't end up in this trip taking that many pictures of trees at all. I kept aiming for the trees, but the shutter kept focusing on adorable little girls. Sometimes you find out what kind of photographer, or scholar for that matter, you are by what keeps popping up in the cataloguing. "hmm... I have 40 photos of trees, and something like 100 photos of children playing and skipping through the woods..." or "Gee, all of my paper outlines have 'performance practice' in the title..." I love people and am finding out that I am a people photographer, just as I realized amid five projects last semester all in the same broad category that I am a researcher in the history of behavioral procedure in music.

I find myself looking at a 'kindred spirit' photographer-musician as I enter into the 5000 region of his film negative catalogue. I was upset going through the first few hundred that I never had, nor would have as he has passed away, a chance to meet this person face to face. Yet, as I have continued through this collection, I see that I am meeting him, and he has answered nearly all of my questions about who he is, with just the stories he has told through his photography. I can only hope as I sit here, surrounded by the efforts of his life, that I can measure up to that kind of selflessness. and then there is the nowhere-near-so-noble part of me that just wants to be able to take pictures that well. ah well...

Conference Call OR Musicology Nerdery for the Hopelessly Academic

2009-10-20T18:41:00.000-05:00

I dearly love about conferences, the geekout factor (now seen internationally--there're more of us!!!), finding out there are completely new things to be fascinated about, observing presentation styles, and perhaps most importantly for me: reaffirming what I do and where I want to go with it.

I love the individual presentations, good and bad, because it pulls me out of whatever current competition I am running with myself (e.g. wrote four hundred words in two hours/kept 200, this time aim five hundred/keep 250(+), or summarized X technique in Y such a way, this time break it down into Z such a way, etc.) I think it is valuable to work on these kinds of things, but it can also begin impeding progress and at times spawns those 'thought spirals of doom' that are completely contrary to progress like "getting nowhere; must be bad writing; wait, can't understand reading; must be stupid..." blah, blah, blah Anyway, it is entirely inspiring to hear people just talk about music. It might be a work in progress, it might be a familiar topic, it might be incompletely presented, or the speaker ran out of time, but we're just talking to each other about music. It's wonderful. I always come away from these experiences with a much clearer idea of what I want to do and how I want to do it.

I was totally excited this time, besides seeing someone whom I recognize, (and love dearly), but also about getting to see one of my teachers present at a conference. I suppose it was inevitable that I then began to miss being in class with both him and equally dear Teacher, but it was worth it. It is amazing to see your teachers in an academic setting outside the classroom, using the examples we've been taught for so many years prior. Yes, I study with these people, and yes, I am proud to be a member of my university's musicology department, and yes, I am absolutely wild about teaching!!

'kindred spirits'

2009-10-13T15:44:00.002-05:00

I loooove going down and working at the instrument archive. You never know what is going to happen, who will appear, or what 'new' old thing you'll see today. My overseer (and fellow general enthusiast on everything, known as Boss) has discovered that I share his love of the 'inspired debate.' I've been working on since arriving, made easier by being a solitary activity, but I think what I missed the most was a regular skill-building 'argument.' I want to prove. I want to question. I want to discuss something, anything (I was desperate enough to get into a political debate and that's saying something) with a knowledgeable and enthusiastic partner. and preferably, with more knowledge and equally stubborn qualities. I have found them. plural. woof. They hang out at the archive. All sorts of people pop in and out of that place; the most fun is in the mornings when it's closed, of course.

It's always Boss' goal to rile someone (usually me) up and get them on fire about something, and it's always my goal to pose a question that the other debater (usually him) can't answer. (You can tell which one is more successful on any given day by the amount of work that gets done) Then more people come in and either pour a cup of coffee (always available) and jump into the fray, or alternatively stand aside somewhat aghast. I'll say that the latter is less frequent and usually restricted to new undergraduates that are unaccustomed to the practice. I am rather new to it myself and can relate quite well. I still usually count it a red-letter when I just don't lose the argument, and even that is infrequent. Most of the time it's when I dissolve into 'ums' and 'wells,' trying to think and talk simultaneously (a frightening thing to behold) that Boss points at me and says, "you're going to find that retort later tonight, and THEN I'll be sorry."

but it is wonderful.

The latest was a debate on the 'right' design for an 'authentic' medieval harp. woo hoo, my area!!! It still floors me, though, that as we're talking about any particular instrument, Boss can go over to a cabinet and pull it out. talk about losing your concentration.

Keep on plugging; I'll get there...
mwa ha ha ha

I am a storyteller

2009-10-11T03:40:00.003-05:00

[facing TITLE, one of a string of nemeses, "ahhh, we meet again, Worthy Adversary..."
To the death, then, Thesis Writer?"
[laughs nervously] "Um... Yes. [gathers courage] Because I will win."
"Hmm, is that so? [appropriates silky tone common to so many bad guys] It's true you I have beaten many better and more talented than you. You are nothing but a painter." [TITLE throws gauntlet]
"Ha!! You tell me nothing that I have not told myself for years, and what is writing but painting with words?"
[touche--TITLE's confidence flickers, but soon recovers] "Indeed, any idiot can master a string of paragraphs, and PROSE puts forth little enough fight to be sure, but a title, [gesturing broadly and bowing, a smirk on his irritatingly handsome face] now that requires skill. and very nearly requires a dance with... poetry, wouldn't you say? " [GRADUATE STUDENT blanches as POETRY steps out of the shadows and takes the hand TITLE extends for her. They dance. At the final flourish, he turns back to GRADUATE STUDENT] "You don't dance, either, do you? Of course, I'm sure you're busy with work on the thesis; and you, writing on dance music. I can't wait to read it..."
[downcast] "I... no. well, but I know, um..."

[when suddenly out the darkness, no, wait: from the skylight--more dramatic emphasis--leaps her trusty sidekick COFFEE, giving GRADUATE STUDENT the mental edge back in her retort. They face TITLE together]

[with an effort] "What is a thesis but a dance between storytellers? Enough talk, let's fight."
[the blows begin in earnest as---

"Sunshine, do you...Ahem."[GRADUATE STUDENT looks up from her spot on the floor, small figurines littering the floor around her, to ACADEMIC BIG SISTER gazing inscrutably down. significant pause] "Aren't you writing a thesis?"

"of course. What's your point?"

oh, tenor, my tenor... on performance and sech

2009-10-09T04:29:00.005-05:00

well, today suffering from the viola da gamba practice "morning after." Such is the curse of playing an instrument involving entire body (for some of us, that's any instrument, but that's another post) and allowing it to lapse, however inevitable the circumstances. It is amazing to me how quickly we forget. Yesterday I spent the morning (unintentionally--do you know that there is a great absence of clocks in this country?) retuning myself to playing the tenor gamba, and subsequently finding out that I had completely forgotten everything I taught myself about reading tenor cleff. le sigh I soon gave up reading at all, partly because it wasn't working anyway (and I can study the music at home) and partly because I had an audience.

One of the things that I really can't decide if it's a good thing or not, is there is never a time--with the exception of maybe one Sunday morning--when I don't play for an audience. It has, for better or worse, changed the way I practice, but it is rather wearing also to know that I'm undergoing some test of skill every time I pull out an instrument. Well, I haven't come in thinking there was really all that much skill there in the first place. and not all my judges are particularly unbiased... That's just the way of it sometimes, and I will not stop--I'm sorry, but after studying with some of the teachers that I have, you can't scare me. I mean that in the best possible way, and I love all of them dearly. truly there are few things more frightening than a very intense gaze in your face saying, "no, that's wrong. make yourself play it right." or 30 minutes before performance "hmm... yeah, that sounded better in my head. we should probably refigure this... Sunshine's taken this class before, you can start it off. We're now playing this..." or setting a photocopy facsimile on stand, "Sunshine/Mac, you are to accompany these singers... oh, you have played Hildegard, yes? good. you play the spices... yes, go. go."

Well, then "fight me. I can take it."

"Shiverin' Texan" European fall checklist

2009-10-01T17:20:00.002-05:00

Under Armor-type, high-necked shirt (under layer)

check

long-sleeved double tee shirt

check

soft, fuzzy high-necked sweater

check

extra long scarf (for double wrappings)

check

long hair (to hold in heat)

check

fitted sweat pant-type trousers (under layer)

check

thickish jeans (wide enough for multiple layers)

check

next generation leg warmers (soft, fuzzy purple variety)

check

soft, fuzzy socks

double check

still to include on rotating basis:
hot cup of coffee/tea

is it possible to live in the fireplace?
or maybe we could reinstate stake burnings?
right now, it seems like a nice trade to be that warm...

thanks to Sensei for the title

roll over, Madame Gherardini...

2009-09-30T14:02:00.007-05:00

If you take art history, they will tell you that movements--most famously Impressionism but several others as well--in the late 19th century arose as a rather abrupt reaction to the advent of the camera; artists for centuries had been striving to make paint/pastel/pencil/pen-all 2D materials take on the appearance of a 3D subject, and now for the first time, they can achieve it in less than a second. so are we painters (etc.) really needed anymore? why bother to spend your life/career studying the intricacies of still life and and techniques for creating it in paint when you can do it perfectly with no training whatsoever. Is it art? and can we afford to consider it so? ...on and on. I believe that this reaction continues.

There comes a time, I am truly convinced, in every artist's development when we have to deal with the fact of photography. Myself--I don't see the point in creating photo-realistic paintings, except as a gift or for marketing, I suppose. too much time for not enough result: I'm working from a photograph, for crying out loud, does no one see the irony here? so we still have to answer two questions: 'am I still needed as a painter?' and 'is that photograph I'm working from art?' of course, the first one is easily answered; you just have to find it for yourself. (because we must face that if the only reason you are painting is to create a photograph, you're not needed; it's just the times we live in)

but for the second question, I cannot give you a satisfying answer. and I am a photographer. I would say, "yes," of course, but also "no." and really, I would believe: "both." I don't really think art is limited to how you define it: art IS, whether you describe as so or not. To me, a photograph is a story. a referential guide to a specific point in time.

for example, if I were to ask you if this

is music.

We would all say, yes, of course, and without thinking. "It's Beethoven't 5th, one of the most iconic pieces (and themes) in the canon of music history!" yadda, yadda, yadda. but the fact remains that this isn't music.

this is

In the words of my wonderful theory teacher, "No one looks at this [score] and says, '(sigh) What a beautiful piece of music;' music is meant to be heard."

I think the same for photography. I look at a photograph for the visual clues, the "tells," to learn about the photographer, who they were and what they were thinking. whether or not it was "aht-fully" taken or intended, there was a reason and that moment in time is caught for-(nearly)-ever on film, digital or otherwise. and I keep coming back to photography to find more of those "tells," and it is completely captivating.

for the sake of progress

2009-09-28T16:34:00.003-05:00

I think there is a tendency in graduate school to walk down our academic path staring at the pebbles in the road as we move along it, occasionally turning to our teachers, addressing their shoes, and asking them if we've moved. There is this underlying fear that someone snuck in a treadmill, and we need that reassurance occasionally. I believe that there are reasons for this somewhat self-inflicted blindness, and I am certainly not belittling it--having done it myself--but then there are the rare occasions that something gets our attention enough to look up for ourselves and see the progress.

For me specifically, one of the things (there are several) that I have always wanted to be is a writer. Over the past twenty years or so, I have constantly had a "diary" or "journal" on hand. I find something incredibly beautiful in a blank page, and an empty journal book is very nearly awe-inspiring. It is actually just this reason (and quite possibly my uncanny ability to lose things) that I never wrote [much] in any of those journals. I wanted to. and tried for years. and the closest that I came was a very small journal of the first trip to Ireland. and that was finished (minus the last few hours which I still only have written in my head) two years after the fact. Also, the trip two years after this achievement only exists as the notes in a sketchbook I made of the trip. the rest resides in my head, brain file 42, marked "!!!!!!!!!!!."

I have tried, since beginning graduate school, to keep this blog as one (at least semi-regular) of several writing exercises. (and that has worked more and less well) but it was only when I looked at this trip's journal that I see what I am going to call "progress," because I want to see it so badly, and because it is so out of character. I am two weeks into a 3 month trip and have been writing on it nearly constantly since settling down--mostly to get in the swing of writing for class/thesis work--and just stepped back to look at it. today passed the fifty-five page mark.

and I'm not finished.
crazy crazy crazy

idiot touristing 101

2009-09-25T14:23:00.004-05:00

rule no. 1: do not badmouth another country for not being like yours while in that country.
rule no. 2: when in Rome...
rule no. 3: anything labeled 'delicacy' will be something you don't want to know about.
rule no. 4: eat it anyway.
...
...

rule no. 47: do not stand in the street videotaping/taking pictures of the local protest going on on the next sidewalk, especially if the reason is because it's "cool."

In the immortal, poetic words of Jeff Foxworthy:

here's your sign...

bowed instruments for the philosophically inclined: table for one, please

2009-09-24T15:29:00.003-05:00

so, one of the things that really encourages me is how familiar the museum/archive scene is. One of the places I am volunteering at is an instrument archive, and the three areas that they need help in (for volunteers) are all things that I have a lot of experience in. It's always a great thing to be handed something you know you can do. We go for coffee, and I tell them that I play several types of early bowed types--rebec, vielle, gamba. and we get back to the archive, he pulls out a rebec, and hands it to me!! it had the definite air of having lived in a box for quite some time, but after I put it back together and found a serviceable tuning, they looked shocked and said, "you really can play that thing!!" We then laughed about that for a while.

I didn't realize it, but I have tuned myself into a job. I am now giving the gamelan and "outreach" person rebec lessons for the 'bowed non-inclined' and preparing a rebec workshop for the archive. I have reason to be very glad for all the "early instrument petting zoo" presentations I was a part of and listened to. and all of the different presentations I've given on medieval bowed instruments to various age groups. It's just the first time that I will be in charge. you know, it's these times that I think simultaneously, "Wow, this is a great opportunity--how exciting" and "wow. don't screw up..." but this is kind of what we do and what I'm here for. so get used to it or go home, I guess. and I really like doing these kind of presentations. The only consistently difficult part is the range and demand of diplomatic responses and explanations.

Well, my diplomatic abilities are certainly getting their exercise here! The one area that we seem have a constant "language barrier" is--and don't think I'm missing the ironic humor in this--when people ask me about my THESIS. I seem to put the wrong emphasis on the wrong syllable for so many other words that when I say it's on the "vielle," they assume "viol." Also, no one knows what the vielle is, so why shouldn't they assume that that's actually what I'm saying? still, I have been corrected so many times on this point, I don't bother trying to fix the misconception anymore. (unless the person seems actually interested, of course, instead of merely polite) I do insist as well on keeping my description of the THESIS to the bare minimum.

I promised myself when I sat myself down and had the great talk: graduate school--yes or no, pros and cons--that if I committed to this thing, whatever happens I will not be one of "those people." You know the type; they appear particularly frequently in the musicology set. The ones that will somehow manage to turn any topic magically toward their thesis/dissertation and then proceed to expand on it. and expand on it. and if at this point, you let them get their wind, it's your own durn fault... so the first thing I did, after picking a topic, was come up with the "5 second version" just for situations like this. though my promise has been getting strain on those straps holding it together. You'll know to worry only when I end up huddled in a corner, muttering something about the "precious"--I mean "promise..."

hot and cold

2009-09-20T07:49:00.002-05:00

sorry for the absence. Crazy, crazy things happening everywhere around here. and there are so many things to take note of, I think I just sit in a constant state of amazement. things like the sheer level of noise--machinery, electrical, automotive and conversational alike, to the exotic character I apparently present. I have grown accustomed to the reception [in conversation] outside of an academic context when I tell someone that I am a medieval musician, a graduate student working on a THESIS on the topic of an instrument they've never heard of. Here, of course, we add to that the fact that I am from an American from Texas and enjoy going to work in the morning. All of these things, rather glib and sounding much more glamorous in print perhaps, but I can usually have a pretty good response when someone says, "Well, that's... interesting, isn't it? You certainly don't hear that everyday" etc., etc. It's really kind of a disturbing thought, I guess, coming to me, of all people. good heavens It's just what I love to do, and I'm really lucky to have stumbled into myself. I really can't help, in those circumstances, thinking, "Holy cow, people, you should meet my teachers."

This is not always the reaction also. Sometimes it goes the opposite way. This week, I have received possibly the biggest compliment I've gotten in Europe, and also the most offensive statement I've gotten as a musician. I'm sorry to say, actually, that I was more prepared for the offensive statement, but there it is. It is the first time in my career as a musician that I have explained what I do and why, and it was negated and devalued in a four word sentence. I will say that it didn't truly offend me because I really do believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinion--liking what I like has never been a requirement of mine. I just find the blatant rudeness interesting. usually, the less-than-favourable opinion on my not engaging in "serious music" is hidden behind a much more subtle implication, rather than in such curt abruptness.

The compliment, on the other hand, was completely unexpected. I explain to people rather frequently about the transitory nature of my current existence. though I am really enjoying it; I meet all kinds of people from a variety of places and cultures that I have never been in close contact before. It's really wonderful. This morning, one of my roommates, asked me where I was from (not a new question), and I explained that I was from Texas, etc., only to listen to her very surprised (and extended) reaction, exclaiming the fact that she couldn't place me as an American. and she is usually very good at pinpointing Americans, but apparently my accent had her confused. This came as a shock to me, being made rather more aware of my accent lately, and the fact that I have never been confused for a European before. for any length of time, even before my mouth was open much less afterwards, and in this instance, I had been speaking with her for a good while before she even asked. so red-letter day.

expecting the unexpected, unexpectedly...

2009-09-15T17:34:00.004-05:00

you know, this is a very interesting learning experience. When you think of "study abroad," there are a lot things that come to mind. even the knowledge that there are some things that you will learn that you couldn't anticipate, you know? I have been completely struck this semester with not going to classes. That's a first for me, and I'm still working and all that, of course, of course. but it's still weird, you know? Anyhow, I've also been struck, in the week settling here and perhaps the method in which I am settled, with just how different the working environment really is. and that is something I hadn't considered really.

We talk in various classes and on research in general about efficiency in writing/researching, academic boundaries, and established routines. I have always in my studies planned my research routines around work and classes, when/where free everlasting internet is available, and practice rooms are empty. Well, I currently have no practice space to speak of except the sleeping room shared by 5-9 other people, usually scrap practice times together when everyone's gone. I am also having to take internet where it comes, (on the whole "reliable" being restricted to the workplace.) Research is to be done alongside the work, and classwork/writing fits in quiet times pulled together at different times during the day.

I suppose that sounds much worse than it really is. It's more just the next learning step in my academic development. I have always had issues with the 'efficiency' aspect, not in the idea, but in practical usage. perhaps that is because I have never needed it: internet in college-town America can always be found at any time of the day or night. In our University, practice room space is at a premium, except at crazy hours, but having an apartment remedies this almost inherently. Now, I am bound by availability of continued internet access and the schedule of other people. In other words, I guess, necessity breeds invention. Over the past two weeks, I have learned to be at least more efficient because I need to be so. It's a wonderful learning experience, and I think it's incredibly valuable for the upcoming year.

It's not perfect: nothing can be expected to change completely in two weeks, don't get me wrong. I am still having trouble keeping a train of thought in noisy places, always before with a preference for silence, which makes writing a bit difficult, but I have ideas and can work through it. I find this very encouraging even if it means that I might, yet again, fall short of the goals I set for myself. We'll see what happens, and I have great plans for the next few months. mwa ha haha....

sew...

2009-09-13T14:00:00.001-05:00

Ok. So I've had an interesting day today. This weekend was the 'open weekend' for the resident Christ Church, meaning that they open everything up, allowing people in for free, and use that incentive for free advertising. I'll have to say: it certainly works. I went, thinking to be a tourist for a bit, and there was a display of a group of ladies working on tapestries, both restoring old works and creating new ones. Naturally, I stopped to chat and stepped into a wonderful community. I have become a volunteer member. They meet once a week, in the morning, sew and gossip a bit, and go home before 'the kids' get out of school. It's lovely. It's rather intimidating. What they do is similar to applique in quilting (though they call it something else), of which I only know the theory, and cross stitch, which I haven't done in years, so I'm rather intimidated... but completely excited.

I also shopped around trying to find my beloved Rumi a birthday present. As it happens, I have the perfect idea: wooo... (as she would say) In the States, weekends are perceived, or at least advertised as a time to relax, 'hobby,' whatever. Here, it seems to be more akin to "go wild; you work on Monday." and I have also discovered that my lovely town here has the "live statues" out in force on Saturdays in response to the elevated numbers of people. yikes... I've grown much more accustomed (thank you, Dublin) to the masses of people very close together, but I just can't seem to grow comfortable with those live statues!! ai yai yaaai... They just give me the willies.

new meetings

2009-09-12T03:16:00.002-05:00

I met yesterday with the people I will be working for. They are wonderful people, and it is a relief to meet people expecting you. We have a base of reference, and that's very steadying. Both of the institutions were remarkably interesting themselves, and we discussed them over a cup of tea. I think I've had more tea in the past few days than I ever have, and that's saying something actually. As it happens, I love tea and found the companionship just wonderful.

The instrument archive I feel right at home with, of course. It is small, friendly, and attracts the just the kind of crazy-fun archival types you would expect, so naturally I fit right in. It is run very similarly to the archive that I worked at for several years, and the fact that its topic is instruments is just perfect. They need help in three main areas which are right up my alley: on the presentation and display of instruments, reorganization of space, and an assistant for community functions. I have never felt more qualified when walking into a new situation, (though I have to admit that I find that thought a bit unnerving--I feel like there must be something I've missed to feel that comfortable in a job I have only begun). After a quick tour of the facility, we then began "chewing the fat" with another of the volunteers, and it was very educational. I forget the amount of eloquent games of wit that is customary in conversation here. It floors me regularly, and I love it.

The museum is fascinating itself in sheer size and complexity, though still retaining the atmosphere of people who love working with history and are truly passionate about what they're doing. That is an invaluable quality to have. I am working with a photograph collection, and he has organized everything already for maximum ease and efficiency. That in itself I am interested in observing. My work is to group the collection in its various forms and media into one cohesive searchable digital database and catalogue it. The photographer was incredibly detailed in his work wrote down everything from the names and games played by the subjects to the f-stop and aperture settings he used on his camera. For a photographer studying a photographer, this is a gold mine of information. Of course, the pinnacle of all this was when I asked a few more detailed questions about the specific camera and he asked me if I'd like to it... holy. cow. YES!! so we had another discussion (over tea) of photography and shared acquaintances (which is lovely to have).

arrival

2009-09-09T15:44:00.002-05:00

whew!!

after a very long, somewhat stressful, traveling day, I have arrived in England!! Of course, the keys to my apartment aren't being delivered (to my house in Texas) until the 11th, and I can't answer any emails (though blogging works, and this makes sense because...) but I am here. everything else is negotiable. at some point, things will calm down. Until then, just fighting the fight.

Day 2/3: Dublin

2009-09-07T11:57:00.002-05:00

Whew, rough day. However, I am happy to say that I have successfully navigated myself around probably the biggest city I've wandered in. but it was for a good cause: the book of Kells and the Old Library, Trinity College. holy. freaking. cow. I can't really convey how awe-inspiring that was; this is as close as I can get: I must now wallow in medieval geekery or go join the first 11th century monastery to devote my life to binding/decorating incredibly intricate gospel collections--it's a toss-up, really....

That was the highlight of the day really. I did not get lost, a first, and that has given me all kinds of hope for success, though I am still having to duck out of crowds in high traffic times. It seems that people operate on a much later schedule than I am accustomed to. I have begun every morning thinking, "you know, this really isn't so bad--why was I worried about this?" Then around 1 or 2, when people come out in droves, I eat my words again. but it is also cheering to know that I have that early morning time to get used to the traffic before it really becomes an issue. I've been dedicating a number of hours each day to solving problems as they come up, though they seem to keep building at a rather alarming rate. That and the constant movement (did I leave anything, where to go, how to get there, etc) has left me little time to concentrate on other things, but I can only see this getting better with time. Anyhow, really too overwhelming at the moment to make anything particularly philosophical out of it, but I'm sure I can work on something. Hopefully moving on to GB tomorrow.

Day 1: firsts

2009-09-06T10:18:00.000-05:00

whoa. I had a super long day considering it was the span of two, and considering my body is nearly in revolt with all the harassment I've put it through--the old joints may never forgive me, though I'm sure the time disorientation isn't helping anything. The flight over, usually a bit tight, was incredibly cramped: consider the source when I say that, but other than that it went well. It is the first time flying into Ireland for me that there was a full moon, meaning I could watch the ocean and see what's happening the entire way. Really, there is just something about the ocean anyway, especially at night. You just look off the edge of the world, understand infinity for the first time or all over again, and want to jump ship to anywhere: "bring me that horizon." This time in particular, I might have considered jumping ship, if the plane wasn't already taking me there. but at night, it's a different creature. It's charged with a mystery that only lifts as it comes into the ray of moonlight; none of it changes significantly, but is entirely captivating none the less.

I am finding, already in the first day, a huge difference in my manner of traveling. I am here until December, am for the most part in charge of my fate, and have only loosely defined plans. This is only the beginning of a chain of first experiences, I can be almost assured. Today, as I will share with you, has certainly been a testament to this. I am content to watch and see events unfold and wait to marvel at their significance later, from the scenery to the people to my own perceptions that seem to be constantly changing. It has been three years since my last trip to Ireland, and the first (plot point, plot point) of any trip I've ever done that I'm doing nearly completely alone. For such a hopeless people-person such as the author of this blog, the significance of this is not lost on me.

I had a several rather lovely conversations early on with people, waiting on the bus for Galway, and again after getting lost on the way to the hostel... the first time. Apparently I don't "talk like a Texan." That's the first time I've been told that as a way of introduction. Actually, it went, "Where did your journey begin? (good question. I, however did answer Texas.) Well, surely you weren't there originally." For a day of firsts, that's a pretty good start. I must also say that the level of exhaustion reached at this point must have dulled the underlying sense of adventure just enough to give the rather false impression of confidence. because people kept coming to me assuming that I knew what I was doing. ha. right. Let me tell you that is a very unnerving start to the trip. One lovely gentlemen and I passed the time at the bus stop in a much more comfortable fashion beginning with, "have you time for a story?"

my goodness, 'do i have time?' I have all the time in the world, my friend.

this is really what I love about coming here. It may be true of other places in Europe (and the world), but I guess I'll find out as I go. I have no idea who this person is, never even got his name, but it doesn't really matter. I had a similar experience after recognizing just enough of my surroundings to get completely lost on the way to finding the hostel. I made a joke about it in passing to a gentleman who then walked me to it, because "in this town, the only way to give directions is to show you; the streets curve, you see, meet here and end there... No, no, sure you can't tell anyone where to go." I understand this completely having gotten completely lost about an hour after this.

You see, Galway and I have a history. It's kind of why I chose to come here. I love Galway very dearly actually, but I have quite a hard time being comfortable in it, so I am here to acclimatize myself to this adventure, and will start here. I was very glad later that I made this decision, beforehand, as it turned today was a market day. meaning that people were out in force, including the living statue people (who will evidently forever give me the willies). That was kind of as clear a "no easing into this gently" sign as I think I could get. I did pretty well until the Virgin Mary altarpiece figure struck a wrestling pose. I can only handle so many things outside the laws of nature, and then it was a wonderful thing to be able to have a place to go to out of all that and chat with people I know. Skype is really marvelous for this: I could talk with my family, roommate, and even listen in on my teacher's slow session!! (I didn't, being in a room full of people and no idea how to do it, but really: WOW)

more to come.

thus it begins

2009-08-31T18:02:00.002-05:00

It is the first semester in five years of college (and eighteen total) that I didn't show up to the first day of school. It's a completely odd feeling, but equally exciting. What I am doing this year is a string of independent work: studies, THESIS, cataloging. It is the most free-form scheduling I've ever experienced. In accordance with this, I have been making detailed individual outlines and daily schedules for myself. I'm completely jazzed (and researching Jazz, hehehe) about what I'm doing. I have a constant run of topics to study going through my head and new ideas on concretizing the THESIS, who of course must appear in all caps, (in tribute to characters from various horror films to which I compare it: instead of THE BLOB, MONSTER FROM THE BLACK LAGOON, or GODZILLA, we bring you--duh da dunnn--THE THESIS), and I am just full to brimming with questions on everything. I want to discuss, debate, dispute, whatever form it comes, I want to know. I am rapidly becoming obsessed with a remarkable book about medieval improvisation and a particularly captivating performance of Beowulf. This is terribly exciting.

I also keep comparing the beginning of the second year with how I was thinking and feeling last year. I am cautiously encouraged by the very fact that I have those ideas and questions and longings for research that I am currently bombarded with. It is a great relief after spending most of last year trying to overcome an academic paralysis, that I must confess happens sometimes, but which lasted far too long. I am by no means without areas to improve, please do not misunderstand, but I can perhaps see easier how to get past them and get things done. something to hope for as the school year begins. Don't you just love fall?

books: 1st cut

2009-08-22T13:41:00.002-05:00

Well, I am reviewing the materials that I prepared for packing about two months ago. I think it very interesting what has found it's way into the "going" pile and what falls into the "staying" pile. books especially. You see, I have found that I've packed more books than anything else and must cut that number down, naturally, though it is a wrench parting with any. I thought I'd share them with you.

Medieval/Early Music:
The Civilization of the Middle Ages Norman F. Cantor
A performer's Guide to Medieval Music Ross W. Duffin [editor]
Music In Medieval Europe Jeremy Yudkin
The Music of the Troubadours Elizabeth Aubrey
With Voice And Pen Leo Treitler
The Song of the Cid Burton Raffel [translator]
The Song of Roland Robert Harrison [translator]

Language:
Writing: Grammar, Usage, and Style (pocket-sized) Emily Dotson Biggs and Jean Eggenschwiler
Latin: an Introductory course Frederic M. Wheelock
Latin Concise Dictionary HarperCollins Publishers
French at a Glance Gail Stein
Italian: Step By Step Charles Berlitz

Personal:
Japanese Death Poems Yoel Hoffmann [compiler]
drawing journal
music-writing journal
2 notebooks of music: troubadour/viola da gamba, previous (indispensable) programs of medieval repertoire
3 empty note journals: thesis, language, record of events on the trip

ramblings

2009-08-17T10:46:00.002-05:00

August is the time for school. All the cute little "back-to-school" lines/sales/commercials come out in force. Stores put fun little boxes, pencils, notebooks, etc., in the front of the store where fruit and barbecue paraphernalia had been just weeks previously. It's so exciting to think of starting school. (Do you know that there are still nine days until my school starts? !!!!! le sigh)

I am working away anyway, trying to be as prepared for the semester as I can be. (and I'm just excited). This week has provided a bit of irony for me: I spent most of it researching vintage cameras whose production surrounded the 1950s to help with some archival work I'll be doing on some photographs. turns out, I had two such cameras in my house all the while!! it's very cool, especially to a camera freak like me...

woof.

losing faith in humanity: one news story at a time

2009-08-14T12:20:00.001-05:00

The third story, after the further perpetuation of whatever current flu paranoia is going around and a shameless interview of whose family got torn apart today, was a comparison between the drought taking place here in central Texas and conditions in Kenya. They show statistics where we've had over 50 days above 100 degrees and 13 inches of rain when the usual is 36. I see the similarity: we have had little enough rain to make the plants turn brown, and, coupled with the El Niño heat, a few have died. Whereas in rural Kenya, currently, they have to walk multiple miles to a mud hole to fill a jug of water for the day.

and the man, showing the horrifying pictures of animals dying because there is nothing on the ground to even pretend to eat, says as he segues to the next story, and I quote: "Well, we can certainly understand what they are going through now."

I can't believe it.

This is the kind of suffering that just rips you apart and you think, "how can I even stand to sit here in this air-conditioned living room with more than I could ever need? Dear Lord, THESE are the people that need it, what can I do?" and some thoughtless person, obviously wanting for nothing, has the gall to say we can even comprehend what they're going through. I don't think he meant it the way it came out--I truly don't believe he was trying to minimize human suffering--but that makes it even worse. It's just that it simply isn't worth us looking close enough to get emotionally involved in any way.

There is very little that I can do or ask anyone to do, but if you are of a mind, please pray for them: certainly for the people in the world legitimately suffering, because I don't think we have to go to Africa to find them, but also for the people who can't care even when the facts sit in front of them--somehow I can't help but feel that these might be the truly pitiable people. as much as my heart goes out more readily to the people, who are probably stronger than anyone I know, where it's just the circumstances that are pitiable.

just another day in Paradise

2009-08-11T11:11:00.005-05:00

well, this has been a rather hectic summer. been moving from one problem or bureaucratic complication to the next. I can't really complain, because it's taught me a lot, given me a lot of patience, and certainly more time with my beloved people. I am incredibly blessed to be surrounded by such wonderful friends and family; I stand in constant amazement. The latest problem being that the temporary housing I had set up reserved for arriving in the UK has been cancelled. (not that I can blame them--two months extra wait with no guarantee for arrival is a little much to ask, even of a friend, much less of a complete stranger.) So I'm moving on to again researching the housing situation. an adventure, to say the least.

Naturally, another thing that I seem to be doing a lot of this summer is waiting. I believe that I've become quite good at it, actually. There comes a time in excessive nervous or stressful situations when you can't really do anything anymore, but neither can you do nothing effectively. I have known for a while that doing something mindless with your hands is wonderful release for such an attack of nerves. I am somewhat encouraged by this, as I am also beginning the THESIS writing process, and, if my previous experience in graduate school is any example, I expect to be plagued with such, eh, emotional preoccupation.

For me, the solution generally is an outpouring of crafts: painting, crocheting, drawing, etc. It allows time to think if needed, something to watch and not think if needed, and the consolation that something is being created to show for it. Also, most of my creations, whatever the medium, I design with someone else in mind. For me, it is the process of creating that I am interested in, and as making objects for myself is next to pointless, what drives me to create is to do so for other people. It's hard for me to say things like this to people, so I probably have never explained this before. I believe most of the reason that doing physical things is so relaxing and comforting to me is because it allows me to think about and plan for other people. I can step out of my selfish mindset for a bit and focus on how much I love this person that I create for, with the added bonus of releasing nervous energy.

I am beginning a project that is an imaginative juxtaposition of crafts. It's simply brilliant: one of those things that you have nothing to do with, but wish you did, you know? You see, I come from a long line of master quilters in my family--each generation ensuring the next that the previous one was better. Such that, it has been one of the particular disappointments in my life that I can make no headway in this area. (and I am not afflicted with false modesty in this: believe me when I say that my quilting efforts are remarkable only in that the pieces actually manage to stay together, which is not much in the quilting world) However, I am an adequate crocheter. This project is brilliant because it is a bridge between the two: a traditional quilt pattern done by crochet. I love it.

Below is the pattern I'm working from:

http://74.125.47.132/search?q=cache:Z09sa700sIEJ:www.coatsandclark.com/NR/rdonlyres/A1F04652-0E6A-4AC6-B4E0-9D019CE30E92/125900/WR1847.pdf+autumn+log+cabin+throw+pattern&cd=2&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us

and a picture (though my colours are a bit different):
http://www.coatsandclark.com/Crafts/Crochet/Projects/AfghansThrows/WR1846+Autumn+Log+Cabin+Throw.htm

the run-down: various plans and goals

2009-06-28T12:07:00.003-05:00

I have watched my teachers and friends design, plan, and carry out performances for several years. It has been and, in fact, still is fascinating for me. so I've recently started dabbling a bit, to see if I can and what to work on, and have been very encouraged with my level of understanding and preparation. I have recently thrown myself into planning concerts and such, mostly to prepare over the next year and probably not perform until I get back (or at some point in the future). here are some of the programs I'm working on:

One that I've had for a couple years and am picking back up again is a thirteenth century chantefable [song-story] called Aucassin and Nicolete. Written in Old French, it's a narrative tale alternating sung and spoken passages describing the misadventures of the two lovers. It is a performance originally designed for two players.

Another that I already have done some work with is a program from the Codex Calixtinus. This is an twelfth century manuscript of mostly polyphonic settings of praises to Saint James (Iacobus). We performed selections of this manuscript first in a workshop in Vancouver and secondly with our university's ensemble.

A new one for me is a reconstruction project (and several spin-off programs) of the Song of Cid. This is the twelfth century epic of the banishment and redemption of Spanish noble known as "my Cid." I have no delusions of finishing this 4,004 line narrative in one year, but I know that I'd like to keep it as an ongoing project, and just including it in what I'm labeling "spin-off programs."

I have various ideas for the spin-offs that are still mostly in developmental stages. One is a transitional program with excerpts from the Cid with modern traditional Galician music, something I've been toying with for a while. The other (at the moment) significant one is a "twelfth century concert." This is an amalgamation of excerpts from the Cid, song of Roland, and troubadour songs.

The other major projects that I'm beginning to design are demonstration ideas (for schools and whatnot) and THE THESIS (which currently scares the sh** out of me actually, but still pressing on and unable to imagine doing anything else). These however, are still in the beginning process, so I'll describe them in more detail later. Anyhow, lots of fun planning going on.

and I'm only talking about the things that I can plan. am extremely nervous and excited about things that I can't plan... :-)

cross-your-fingers and don't-speak-above-a-whisper

2009-06-27T14:03:00.002-05:00

ok, so here's my long overdue post on the subject that I have been both constantly obsessing over and uncharacteristically silent about: [gathers courage] I am, Lord willing, leaving for England in less than a month. I do also realize that most people reading this already know. However, as someone famously said on my first trip Ireland, "it isn't real until the plane lands." Usually, in such circumstances, I tend to bounce off walls in uncontainable excitement anyway.

It's not that I'm not excited this time,--in fact, quite the opposite--but in this instance, when I am hoping and wanting it enough, I'm not sure that I could handle the disappointment such an excitement would create in the event that it did end up falling through. (or like my continued dreams: of forgetting some crucial detail and unable to go, disgracing myself, offending the English at every turn and leaving early, dishonouring teachers, friends, mentors, and family alike and thereafter crawling into a cave, or in one outlandish nightmare of actually managing to start another war with England itself--all of which doing wonders for my sleeping patterns--let me tell you--not to mention the amount of worry this has spawned.)

The whole thing is such an amazing opportunity, for me without question, but also to do some good for other people--here and across the pond--which is an even bigger incentive to hope, even if it could prove to still be a "no go" at any moment. I feel somewhat like I've been holding my breath since February. In any event, I've kind of taken to the "just don't say it too loud and maybe it will happen" approach that also helps to keep the panic at bay.

This all kind of brings me up to date. I am still gathering and collecting [and worrying] over the Visa application, but it's all worked out, and I can't really believe it. and probably won't until the plane lands. but I am living in a constant state of gratitude for all the stages of the process that I think deserves explanation from me. As I say, "uncharacteristic" might be an understatement, but I just keep plugging away at it, checking and double checking, planning, packing, and maybe just a little bit of excitement creeping in... (though, of course, very hush-hush)

:-D

recents

2009-05-25T19:04:00.002-05:00

well, I've been painting recently and completely enjoying the freedom (of time) to do so. In fact, I have about three projects going, but one is finished! how exciting is that? especially since it doesn't happen that often with me. anyway, here it is:

done: no more thinking, please, Alex

2009-04-30T15:19:00.002-05:00

as of about ten minutes ago:
last assignment finished (if not to my liking, at least with something on the page--which seems to be a theme)

as of two hours ago:
brain shut-down sequence begins after ripping through mostly finished writing and finding it stupid. (le sigh)

This semester has been extremely productive in terms of written output (more so if I had kept most of it), and though it did cause more sleep deprivation than ideal, I can't complain about the outcome. I have learned a great deal, or at least feel like I have. I am not particularly fond of my writing currently and am prone to irritation and frustration at myself when I learn slower than I'd like. (which is most of the time). but I realize a lot of the things that I do that are detrimental to improvement, such as turning off the editor, fixing/preventing ridiculously stupid mistakes, unclarity, efficiency, and the Delete Button (possibly my current nemesis and not a particularly positive convenience on the keyboard), and I am implementing lists and experiments to change them. if slowly.

anyway, more on this later, (when I can sort it out myself).

"I must meet this man"

2009-04-17T11:38:00.003-05:00

I do believe this college applicant is my hero. at very least, I would dearly love to meet anyone who would (and could) write this:

Essay:
In order for the admissions staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better, we ask that you answer the following question:
Are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a Mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

defeat: admitted

2009-04-02T16:05:00.002-05:00

Well, I'm done. I can't just work harder and fix it. 'working harder' just doesn't cut it, and I realize that I am too stupid to understand. I give up; it has happened before a few times in my life. I have admitted that I will never be able to count four (or sing) and play at the same time, I will never be able to think in chords no matter how long I study theory, or legitimately paint a sunset, or understand what charo is saying, and will now go play the gamba until the overwhelming desire to cry--or tear someone's head off that inevitably doesn't deserve it--wears off, because the gamba I can understand.

the plus side though is that I have won against the tactus gremlins. I have been working on hearing bigger, over-all beats, and after five days (and just a few swear words), I finally got it. woo-hoo, very exciting. there's a happy side.

one song at a time

2009-03-06T20:11:00.003-06:00

i didn't really thinks things could be more stressful than last semester... i guess i am proven wrong. again. however, my current job allows for hours of ipod listening--a boon, let me tell you. this means that i can learn new tunes, get our ensemble music in my head, put my textbooks on tape and listen to them while i work, and when things get particularly dreadful, i can create what i call my stress-buster playlist. the reaction for each these songs/tunes when they come on is, [catch breath] "oh, i love this one!" every time. the current iteration looks something like this:

Bobby McFerrin
Don't Worry, Be Happy
Don't Worry, Be Happy
good lovin' [cover]
from me to you [cover]
the grooviest "unaccompanied" singing i've ever heard (with maybe something a little special thrown in). it never fails to lift my spirits hearing Mr. McFerrin say, "if you worry, call me, i'll make you happy," "don't worry--don't do it," etc. or the wonderful technical antics he does in every piece.

Mason Brown/Dough Goodhart
Houseconcert
Say Darlin' Say
old-time twist on one of the songs i hold in my earliest memories and played by dear, dear teacher-friends

Moira Smiley
Rua
Stand In That River
rocking original "traditional" song sung by one of my favourite singers and teachers, accompanied by banjo. really, what could be better than that?

Andy Irvine
Rain on the Roof
A Prince Among Men
Forgotten Hero
He Fades Away
The Monument
Never Tire of the Road
absolute favourite Irish singer/songwriter. inspired a generation of musicians, including my teachers, roommate, and myself.

Statler Brothers
Favourites
New York City
Maggie
Some I Wrote
Do You Know You Are My Sunshine
Official Historian On Shirley Jean Berrell
Kid's Last Fight
'Til the End
Promise
There Is You
Ride Down Memory Lane
a shortlist from the band i measure my growin' up on, from watching my mom dance these songs to learning the melodies (and tracking which of the four's range i sing in) to listening for harmonic progressions and stylistic markers to teaching myself to sing harmony

Dervish
Midsummer Night's Dream
Banks of the Sweet Viledee
An T-Uil
Red-Haired Mary
three favourite songs on one of the cds that has probably gone with me on the most road trips. this means the road. long hours of scenery, alone time to think and relax, and someone who loves me at the end.

Prime Ministers
Gospel Favourites
Blessed Be
Leavin' On My Mind
We're Almost Home
Over the Hill
Beulah Land
the kind of 'good gospel' singing that reminds me of the radio program we listened to on sunday mornings before church: "KFXI, good morning. this program is brought to you [in a comely Oklahoman accent] by 'jack's country crafts and FINE wood furniture'..."

Paul Overstreet
Sowin' Love
All the Fun
Call the Preacher
Richest Man on Earth
Sowin' Love
Love Never Sleeps
Dig Another Well
Seein' My Father In Me
What God Has Joined Together
'Neath the Light of Your Love
another of the cds i grew up on. my mother taught me to two-step on this album. the first few attempts ended in fits of giggles from the participants (and the grandparental audience enjoying the show) until my father stepped in to 'show me how it's done,' and it ended in an 'awwww' moment.

Dervish
Spirit
Soldier Laddie
The Cocks Are Crowin'
Paidin O Raifearty
stunningly brilliant album of one of my favourite Irish bands ever. i was introduced to this record on my first trip to Ireland and it carries all of the associations of that trip: incomparable music, dearest friends, wonderful experiences--to name a few.

Altan
Island Angel
Dulaman
first song i have ever been asked to sing and reminds me of my teacher that suggested it.

Ray Boltz
Concert of a Lifetime
The Lamb
beautiful piece of worship

Altramar
Iberian Garden I
this cd has long been very dear to my heart. the first time i ever heard traditional/arabic music crossed with medieval music. it is my teachers giving a nod to their teachers; basically, my musical lineage completely rocking out like they can do.

Paul Overstreet
Heroes
Ball and Chain
Daddy's Come Around
Love Lives On
Straight and Narrow
She Supports Her Man
On Top of a Mountain
another of my childhood records that reminds me of west texas, my family, cleaning house on saturdays, etc. in essence, comforting down-home music.

Sequentia
Vox Iberica I
everything wonderful about medieval music and sharing the vancouver experience, there and back at home with my teacher-friends: geeking out to medieval music has no bounds.

Sequentia
Endzeitfragmente
quite possibly the perfect cd. the apocalyptic end of the world by fire: you've never had so much fun with death in your life. it is completely captivating mostly reconstructions of music-less text that members of this group specialize in performing. (and yet, what don't they specialize in?)

Johnny Faa
Last Night's Fun
session in a disc. the people that i play with every week, learn from, love dearly doing our session favourites. it has all of them (four of my favourite singers) singing songs and playing tunes that first made me love this music (and them) and continues to. speaking of 'what don't they do...' :-)

Bangles
The Bangles
Hero Takes a Fall
Manic Monday
great girl-power (which i've never really taken to) rock music on perfect stress-relieving topics.

5th Dimension
The Age of Aquarius
Wedding Bell Blues
sweet love song that i first heard in gilmore girls and like the story. more a guilty pleasure than anything else, but it will make me smile without fail.

In the Frame

Admission

In Remembrance: Love and Grief

"Crooked Sensibilities;" The First

"Please, Sir..."

Crochetin' A Storm, and Thinking of Beloved People

"Crooked Sensibilities"

Dhyāna Series: Photo 11

Dhyāna Series: Photo 10

Gratitude

Toughest Puppy Ever... or He Might Get Us Both Killed.

TXTNG S RUENING R CiVLiZaTiOn... *Rant*

Dhyāna Series: Photo 9

Dhyāna Series: Photo 8

Peter Horan, 1926-2010: He Will Be Missed

Professional Courtesy

Opposites; Experience; Focus

"New Tune"

Worry Box

"Better Safe Than Sorry:" A Gastronomical Cliché

A Ghrá Mo Chroí

Desperate Battles

"Now I'm afraid..."

Dhyāna Series: Photo 7

Dhyāna Series: Photo 6

On Advice: A Role Reversal

Dhyāna Series: Photo 5

Traveling In the Modern Period, or Why Medieval Musicians Walked

Dhyāna Series: Photo 4

Dhyāna Series: Photo 3

Dhyāna Series: Introduction

"In the Frame"

Collaborative Quilt; Dedication Quilt

Storm Chasography

Addendum

Semester Assessment

Giving Back, Even In Small Ways

Lather; Rinse; Repeat

Playing for the Dancers

Research Experiment #1, Performance in Practice: Update. Expansion.

Neighbor Awareness FAIL

Murphy descends to next level of hell

Some Days...

Update

Compulsiveness aside; tangent allowed

Research Experiment #1, Performance in Practice: Guidelines

'Little White Bird' Gone Puck

Overload ... Overloaded ... And Recapped

Thoughts 'After the Coffee Break:' Possible Oxymoron Included

Life Is

Community: More Than Just Bandmates

Livin' In Our Hearts

On Your Mark, Get Set... Freeze

Goals

Thus Begins the Countdown

Lighter Note:

"One in the Bond of... What?"

This is what we've come to?

check-point:

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 348-349.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 347-348.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 345-347.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 344-345.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 343-344.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 342-343.

marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 341-342.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, 340-341.

Marginalia Series, Richard Taruskin, Cont'd.

Marginalia Series, Pilot Episode: Richard Taruskin, "On Letting the Music Speak for Itself: Some Reflections on Musicology and Performance"

Quintilian's Treatise Proposal, Part the First

Get Better, Dammit

Happiness: to choose and to improve

musings

Conference Call OR Musicology Nerdery for the Hopelessly Academic

'kindred spirits'

I am a storyteller

oh, tenor, my tenor... on performance and sech

"Shiverin' Texan" European fall checklist

roll over, Madame Gherardini...

for the sake of progress

TXTNG S RUENING R CiVLiZaTiOn... Rant