Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Disturbing.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/21/arts/music/21kanye.html
In Jon Caramanica's recent article preceding Kanye's upcoming album (his fifth) I can't help but see how complacent and thoughtless music criticism and appreciation have become - and thus popular music, which is beholden only to the consumer dollar.
Mr. Caramanica's quotations range from laughable to offensive. His praise of Kanye's output on the upcoming album reaches for descriptors like "great" and "better." There is not much description of what makes Kanye's music stand out. Indeed, "[Kanye]'s committed to pop, and savvy and talented enough to make it great, every time. What's more, for him to make something other than a universally accepted smash would be a thing that his ego couldn't bear. Every Kanye West album, until the cancer of the world around him begins to encroach on the parts of his cerebral cortex that control his musical ear, will be excellent and huge."
What?
Making it great, every time? I don't think that can be done. Greatness isn't consistency. If it were, we'd all say fast food is great - maybe we do too much already.
His ego couldn't bear to be without smash hits? Tough [noogies]. His ego doesn't sound like it's invested in the music. Nor does it seem like most other "artists" are truly musical talent. Why else would the disclaimer (as praise, no less) need to appear: "Mr. West controls all of the major elements of his songs, unlike the other artists who have to rely on their taste (or their record label's taste) in outside producers or songwriters." Is this merely to say that Kanye does his work and records his own material? Is that special? I am stymied to think that extra credit is now being given for the most basic of functions as an "artist." Maybe artist isn't the right word anymore. Maybe puppet-with-or-without-some-strings is better, no?
Finally, the most artistically offensive advance of the whole article is this:
"Music that is ornate, ostentatious, curious and vivacious. But risky? No. All of the fiddling is within recognized formulas."
How is this a triumph? Of course new doesn't equal better. Different doesn't equal better. But I am wondering how music can be curious and vivacious without at least hinting at innovation.
That Kanye can be mired in the work of others and lauded for a basic commitment to creating and producing his own music might very well be what is wrong with the world today. And, as Mr. Caramanica's ending paragraph states, "his effort is valueless without response." Maybe it's time to start ignoring this loudmouth - he's got enough bling.
In Jon Caramanica's recent article preceding Kanye's upcoming album (his fifth) I can't help but see how complacent and thoughtless music criticism and appreciation have become - and thus popular music, which is beholden only to the consumer dollar.
Mr. Caramanica's quotations range from laughable to offensive. His praise of Kanye's output on the upcoming album reaches for descriptors like "great" and "better." There is not much description of what makes Kanye's music stand out. Indeed, "[Kanye]'s committed to pop, and savvy and talented enough to make it great, every time. What's more, for him to make something other than a universally accepted smash would be a thing that his ego couldn't bear. Every Kanye West album, until the cancer of the world around him begins to encroach on the parts of his cerebral cortex that control his musical ear, will be excellent and huge."
What?
Making it great, every time? I don't think that can be done. Greatness isn't consistency. If it were, we'd all say fast food is great - maybe we do too much already.
His ego couldn't bear to be without smash hits? Tough [noogies]. His ego doesn't sound like it's invested in the music. Nor does it seem like most other "artists" are truly musical talent. Why else would the disclaimer (as praise, no less) need to appear: "Mr. West controls all of the major elements of his songs, unlike the other artists who have to rely on their taste (or their record label's taste) in outside producers or songwriters." Is this merely to say that Kanye does his work and records his own material? Is that special? I am stymied to think that extra credit is now being given for the most basic of functions as an "artist." Maybe artist isn't the right word anymore. Maybe puppet-with-or-without-some-strings is better, no?
Finally, the most artistically offensive advance of the whole article is this:
"Music that is ornate, ostentatious, curious and vivacious. But risky? No. All of the fiddling is within recognized formulas."
How is this a triumph? Of course new doesn't equal better. Different doesn't equal better. But I am wondering how music can be curious and vivacious without at least hinting at innovation.
That Kanye can be mired in the work of others and lauded for a basic commitment to creating and producing his own music might very well be what is wrong with the world today. And, as Mr. Caramanica's ending paragraph states, "his effort is valueless without response." Maybe it's time to start ignoring this loudmouth - he's got enough bling.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Can't stop watching:
More ad campagins should be centered around the dichotomy of a cute animal and its tough behavior. Thank you, Panda cheese.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Acadia!
So, we went to Acadia National Park. No Obama, no moose, but it was beautiful anyway.
Josh, Elizabeth and I hike all around and eventually reached the top of one of the peaks in the park (where the video above was filmed). The views were spectacular as was the weather.
And, we got to pick wild blueberries (and eat them!):
Simply AWESOME. Too bad my camera died 3 pictures in, otherwise there would be more fun photos.
----
Back in the world of music (why I'm here, right?) the quartet assigned to my piece has been rehearsing and played for me for the first time on Friday. They were awesome! Flexible, excited and very skilled. My piece, a movment for string quartet called "The Nascent Past," is being played Tuesday, I believe. Recordings, videos and whatever else I can post here will be available.
Josh, Elizabeth and I hike all around and eventually reached the top of one of the peaks in the park (where the video above was filmed). The views were spectacular as was the weather.
And, we got to pick wild blueberries (and eat them!):
Simply AWESOME. Too bad my camera died 3 pictures in, otherwise there would be more fun photos.
----
Back in the world of music (why I'm here, right?) the quartet assigned to my piece has been rehearsing and played for me for the first time on Friday. They were awesome! Flexible, excited and very skilled. My piece, a movment for string quartet called "The Nascent Past," is being played Tuesday, I believe. Recordings, videos and whatever else I can post here will be available.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Beethoven: Ying style.
This past Friday held the most recent installment for the "Festival Fridays" concert series, which is most usually the venue for orchestral pieces and concerti. Ray Chen played the Brahms violin concerto, and very well at that. He is quite a showman, and an excellent violinist. Though I doubt his full potential was on display due to a lack of orchestra rehearsal time (2 rehearsals just isn't enough for an orchestra that meets bi-weekly), his ensemble and attention to the group as well as himself was remarkable, and it came across in the music.
The most interesting portion of the evening for me, however, was the first half of the program. The Ying Quartet, in residence here at Bowdoin for the first three weeks, played the Beethoven "Rasoumovsky" quartet. Simply awesome.
Their performances of the fourth movement and encore of it after a 5-minute standing ovation were spectacular, but not because they were necessarily supremely accurate. Many of my colleagues here remarked that the playing in their ultra-fast rendition lacked clarity and accuracy of sound. Of course they didn't sound like they were putting their bows or fingers down willy-nilly, but not every passage was pinpoint accurate. And, I think that might have been part of what was so incredible.
Given the blistering pace at which they took the movement it was astonishing to hear how cleanly and evenly matched the transitions, thematic trades dynamics were. Despite the number of notes that were sounding there was a constant sensibility of long lines and big, beautiful phrases that were built from the twittering beneath. The energy was palpable while they were playing and the way that each performer was able to communicate with the others was magical. That magic, that unspoken, inarticulable connection, is what made the music come alive. By "talking" to eachother on stage they brought the whole audience with them.
As a composer I am one step removed from that. I can't make sure of any performer constantly reaching that place, and to expect it would be unrealistic. But, there may be a way to do that on the page - to push things along in a way. Making that discourse happen on my manuscript paper is now explicitly and precisely part of what I am working towards with my music.
I'll let you know when I figure it out...
-----
Off to Acadia National Park (and maybe a little Bar Harbor). Pictures forthcoming!
The most interesting portion of the evening for me, however, was the first half of the program. The Ying Quartet, in residence here at Bowdoin for the first three weeks, played the Beethoven "Rasoumovsky" quartet. Simply awesome.
Their performances of the fourth movement and encore of it after a 5-minute standing ovation were spectacular, but not because they were necessarily supremely accurate. Many of my colleagues here remarked that the playing in their ultra-fast rendition lacked clarity and accuracy of sound. Of course they didn't sound like they were putting their bows or fingers down willy-nilly, but not every passage was pinpoint accurate. And, I think that might have been part of what was so incredible.
Given the blistering pace at which they took the movement it was astonishing to hear how cleanly and evenly matched the transitions, thematic trades dynamics were. Despite the number of notes that were sounding there was a constant sensibility of long lines and big, beautiful phrases that were built from the twittering beneath. The energy was palpable while they were playing and the way that each performer was able to communicate with the others was magical. That magic, that unspoken, inarticulable connection, is what made the music come alive. By "talking" to eachother on stage they brought the whole audience with them.
As a composer I am one step removed from that. I can't make sure of any performer constantly reaching that place, and to expect it would be unrealistic. But, there may be a way to do that on the page - to push things along in a way. Making that discourse happen on my manuscript paper is now explicitly and precisely part of what I am working towards with my music.
I'll let you know when I figure it out...
-----
Off to Acadia National Park (and maybe a little Bar Harbor). Pictures forthcoming!
Friday, July 16, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Take me out
Last Saturday we took a trip down to Portland to see the minor-league team, The Portland Sea Dogs. They're the minor league affiliate of the Boston RedSox. It was fun, mostly because my group decided to (aggressively) support the away team (we're all New Yorkers...).
After some children gave us the stink-eye and Linnea was called, "potty-mouth" we slumped into a hot-dog and beer-induced coma, eventually leaving at the 7th inning stretch. (The away team won, by the way. I'm saying it was in no small part thanks to us.)
This week has been busy - hence my lack of updates. I've been working away at the song cycle, getting mired in some text that moves more quickly than I'm used to (from image to image). It's fun, but I don't think I have these next two songs down yet. I've handed the first two over to the singer for the next session of the festival, which begins Monday. Hopefully at least some of the songs will make their way into performance.
Tonight there is going to be a bit of a sight-reading party. Players here are great and I think my quartet might even get a read-through. Also, if we do the reading somewhere with a piano I might fake through the Schubert's "Trout Quintet", which would be great.
More soon...
After some children gave us the stink-eye and Linnea was called, "potty-mouth" we slumped into a hot-dog and beer-induced coma, eventually leaving at the 7th inning stretch. (The away team won, by the way. I'm saying it was in no small part thanks to us.)
This week has been busy - hence my lack of updates. I've been working away at the song cycle, getting mired in some text that moves more quickly than I'm used to (from image to image). It's fun, but I don't think I have these next two songs down yet. I've handed the first two over to the singer for the next session of the festival, which begins Monday. Hopefully at least some of the songs will make their way into performance.
Tonight there is going to be a bit of a sight-reading party. Players here are great and I think my quartet might even get a read-through. Also, if we do the reading somewhere with a piano I might fake through the Schubert's "Trout Quintet", which would be great.
More soon...
Monday, July 05, 2010
4th-y weekend.
A bit of a hiatus from blogging, yes. But, July 4th weekend was lots of fun!
Friday 'started' with a lesson (really, it was at 4pm). Claude Baker seemed to like my song by the end of it. Although, I should probably be working more towards more meaningful tonal strides. In time, I suppose.
After that, I left composition behind for a couple days (oops). Friday evening held a concert that was impressive for its firepower. Glenn Dicterow, Liang Wang, Ray Chen, and a host of other fantastic players in an all-Schumann program. Liang Wang played the "Three Romances," which he saved from being the schmaltz that they are through his fantastic playing and lovely performance - very rarely have I seen an instrumental soloist spend so much time away from sheet music when it was available. His perhaps overly-conspicuous sojourns from the page actually drew greater attention to some of his superbly expressive detail. Next was the Schumann piano quintet in E-flat, Op. 44. Always an amazing piece, but with Glen Dicterow at the helm there were certainly more wonderful moments than usual. His economy of movment is always astounding, as is the sound he produces from his Guarneri. It was also interesting to watch how he lead the much younger Ray Chen. Ray is a masterful player and his youthful styling provided an interesting foil for the other more seasoned players in the group - all of which were at least 10 years his senior. The final piece on the concert was the Piano Concerto in a-minor - one of my favorites. This was, however, the first outing for the festival orchestra, with a new soloist and only two rehearsals. The tempi were impeccable and, at last, the performance struck me as one not of precision but heart and energy - wonderfully enjoyable and very exciting.
That night there was a party. A great party. A party that I was still recovering from Saturday morning when I embarked on a trip down to Kennebunk.
I spent much of Saturday and Sunday at my friend Kelly's (well, her family's) in Kennebunk. I lived with Kelly when I was at Vassar in my senior year. A couple of her tennis teammates were there as well - Jamie and Courtney - with whom I was also friendly. It was great to have a miniature Vassar reunion and to see Kelly's parents, who were the most gracious and generous of hosts. Lobster at the boat club, tennis in the morning across the way, and some sun at the beach - need I say more?
After returning to Brunswick on Sunday morning, the 4th, I spent a bit of time having some beer with my housemate Josh and some other string players from the festival - Laura, Laurel and Linnea. After making a bit of dinner we took off in my car for Portland, where there were going to be fireworks. After a lot of searching for parking and eventually finding space in what looked like the local projects (dubious), we walked over to the hill where the fireworks were to be. The Portland played some "American Favorites" (with a bit of Tchaikovsky for good measure...) to about a 45-minute fireworks show, which was very impressive.
After we returned, there was a bit more beer and the following portrait of Laurel, Josh and Linnea (L to R) which, though ambiguous, remains iconic in my mind:
Epic, to say the least.
In any event, I'm back to writing. It feels good, almost comfortable in a relaxing sort of way. Hopefully I'll have another song (mostly) done by tomorrow... fingers crossed.
Friday 'started' with a lesson (really, it was at 4pm). Claude Baker seemed to like my song by the end of it. Although, I should probably be working more towards more meaningful tonal strides. In time, I suppose.
After that, I left composition behind for a couple days (oops). Friday evening held a concert that was impressive for its firepower. Glenn Dicterow, Liang Wang, Ray Chen, and a host of other fantastic players in an all-Schumann program. Liang Wang played the "Three Romances," which he saved from being the schmaltz that they are through his fantastic playing and lovely performance - very rarely have I seen an instrumental soloist spend so much time away from sheet music when it was available. His perhaps overly-conspicuous sojourns from the page actually drew greater attention to some of his superbly expressive detail. Next was the Schumann piano quintet in E-flat, Op. 44. Always an amazing piece, but with Glen Dicterow at the helm there were certainly more wonderful moments than usual. His economy of movment is always astounding, as is the sound he produces from his Guarneri. It was also interesting to watch how he lead the much younger Ray Chen. Ray is a masterful player and his youthful styling provided an interesting foil for the other more seasoned players in the group - all of which were at least 10 years his senior. The final piece on the concert was the Piano Concerto in a-minor - one of my favorites. This was, however, the first outing for the festival orchestra, with a new soloist and only two rehearsals. The tempi were impeccable and, at last, the performance struck me as one not of precision but heart and energy - wonderfully enjoyable and very exciting.
That night there was a party. A great party. A party that I was still recovering from Saturday morning when I embarked on a trip down to Kennebunk.
I spent much of Saturday and Sunday at my friend Kelly's (well, her family's) in Kennebunk. I lived with Kelly when I was at Vassar in my senior year. A couple of her tennis teammates were there as well - Jamie and Courtney - with whom I was also friendly. It was great to have a miniature Vassar reunion and to see Kelly's parents, who were the most gracious and generous of hosts. Lobster at the boat club, tennis in the morning across the way, and some sun at the beach - need I say more?
After returning to Brunswick on Sunday morning, the 4th, I spent a bit of time having some beer with my housemate Josh and some other string players from the festival - Laura, Laurel and Linnea. After making a bit of dinner we took off in my car for Portland, where there were going to be fireworks. After a lot of searching for parking and eventually finding space in what looked like the local projects (dubious), we walked over to the hill where the fireworks were to be. The Portland played some "American Favorites" (with a bit of Tchaikovsky for good measure...) to about a 45-minute fireworks show, which was very impressive.
After we returned, there was a bit more beer and the following portrait of Laurel, Josh and Linnea (L to R) which, though ambiguous, remains iconic in my mind:
Epic, to say the least.
In any event, I'm back to writing. It feels good, almost comfortable in a relaxing sort of way. Hopefully I'll have another song (mostly) done by tomorrow... fingers crossed.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
On we go.
Here at Bowdoin it's been an eventful couple of days. Tuesday's lesson with Claude Baker was an interesting getting-to-know-you kind of meeting. I showed him the two pieces I am submitting for the Gamper Festival, to which I think (hope) he responded favorably. I'm proud of the string quartet, even though it's a bit short at 5'30". These musical products are starting to feel more authentically "me."
The best part of the lesson for me was the crystallization of something that I was just beginning to perceive in my music and to which I think most of my other teachers had merely alluded, hoping I would get the hint. My harmonic language is too static in a large-scale way - often my pieces were getting locked into a set of pitches, returned to over and over again, that made the piece stand still even if the gesture and rhythms of the music looked like the they should chug forward. The string quartet does this less so, I think (I got the impression he did as well). But, now that I am keenly aware of it, the songs I am writing should take on a sensibility informed by the careful consideration of this kind of harmonic action. I'll be bringing in the first one to lesson tomorrow - we'll see how it goes.
-----
The weather yesterday was absolutely perfect. Today as well, despite a few extra clouds. "Home," pictured above, is a great place to hang. All of the people in the contiguous apartments are great fun and have been making our little area of campus quite warm and comfortable. The mosquitos, however, have not. They are vicious. The vermin even come out in the middle of the day - something to which I am not accustomed, coming from northern NJ. Good thing I have plenty of DEET in the spray I bought.
I found a driving range and 3 golf courses today as well. Those should provide some amusement in the coming weeks. Hopefully they won't be too much of a distraction from writing.
The rest of today has a master class with Glenn Dicterow and then lots more writing. I think Chicken Tikka Masala is on the menu this evening. Hopefully so is a lot more of the song cycle.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
2sday
Today is a much nicer day in Brunswick, ME. The sun is out, it's a perfect 71°F, and lots of work has already been accomplished.
After working through most of the morning I took off for my newly adopted 11:30 gym routine. The gym, at least one of them, keeps odd, spaced hours here. 11:30 is an opening time (goes until 2:30, I think...) and so the treadmills are totally free. I even have my own adopted machine...
Lunch was nice, but breif (I have been perpetually hungry these past few days) and I made some pasta salad for later... hopefully that staves off some of the hunger this evening.
Working this afternoon I tried something new. I was speaking with Harold a few months ago, when he was writing his song cycle, Beautiful Ohio for the NY Festival of Song. He said to me, after having recited a number of the poems he was setting, "Don't you find that you have to memorize the poems before you start setting them?" I replied, "No," at the time, but thought that something like that might benefit me in the songs I am working on now. It's a set of 6 for Soprano (or Mezzo) and Guitar. I have been a bit paranoid about the way that the songs should weave together - I feel like the message of the set should shine through the music...
So, I wrote all of the poems out on separate pieces of paper and began to draw.
I looked for similar words, the same word that carried different meanings in different passages, important rhymes, rhythms, cadences, etc. Through all of this, I gleaned not only a better insight into the text, but a more secure (and hopefully productive) plan about how to go about getting to the double-bar.
It's always fun to try something new, especially when it feels like the strategy supports your saying whatever you want to say, rather than moving your style in a direction in which you are uncomfortable going.
-----
First lesson's at 4... brought a lot of music. We'll see if Claude Baker takes a shine to my music.
After working through most of the morning I took off for my newly adopted 11:30 gym routine. The gym, at least one of them, keeps odd, spaced hours here. 11:30 is an opening time (goes until 2:30, I think...) and so the treadmills are totally free. I even have my own adopted machine...
Lunch was nice, but breif (I have been perpetually hungry these past few days) and I made some pasta salad for later... hopefully that staves off some of the hunger this evening.
Working this afternoon I tried something new. I was speaking with Harold a few months ago, when he was writing his song cycle, Beautiful Ohio for the NY Festival of Song. He said to me, after having recited a number of the poems he was setting, "Don't you find that you have to memorize the poems before you start setting them?" I replied, "No," at the time, but thought that something like that might benefit me in the songs I am working on now. It's a set of 6 for Soprano (or Mezzo) and Guitar. I have been a bit paranoid about the way that the songs should weave together - I feel like the message of the set should shine through the music...
So, I wrote all of the poems out on separate pieces of paper and began to draw.
I looked for similar words, the same word that carried different meanings in different passages, important rhymes, rhythms, cadences, etc. Through all of this, I gleaned not only a better insight into the text, but a more secure (and hopefully productive) plan about how to go about getting to the double-bar.
It's always fun to try something new, especially when it feels like the strategy supports your saying whatever you want to say, rather than moving your style in a direction in which you are uncomfortable going.
-----
First lesson's at 4... brought a lot of music. We'll see if Claude Baker takes a shine to my music.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Day 1.. sort of...
Today is the official start of activities at Bowdoin. As a composer I have very little directed time. This is great, actually, as I have already done some writing, been to the gym, made lunch, printed staff paper (!), and taken a shower (not necessarily in that order).
Walking around the Bowdoin campus is a pleasure. It's beautiful - buildings nestled nicely between lots of trees, lots of timeless architecture and functional interiors that rival colleges many times its size. The library is very beautiful, but I'm not sure of what its holdings are. The music library is VERY small and has VERY limited holdings - a bit disappointing, but perhaps a good excuse to learn some more classical repertoire with which I am not entirely acquainted.
Put another way, there's not a lot from the last 100 years.
The gym, on the other hand, is fantastic. The free weight room is particularly nice, with more weights than two football teams could take up and a water fountain that apparently has an unending supply of water kept at the perfect temperature. Even better: it's next door to the recital hall where composer practice rooms are.
I'll spend most of the rest of the day writing - I've already made some good progress on songs for guitar and voice that are settings of text by Linda Loomis - excerpts from her book, "Apple Tree Summer." After working through the most recent piece, "Apologies," with Ken Meyer, writing for guitar has become an intriguing challenge for me. I think it might reinforce some of the sonic tendencies that I'm starting to adopt as my "voice" is developing.
Lastly: I have never seen so many squirrels walking. I have seen squirrels run, many of them. But it is on a rare occasion that I see a squirrel strolling along a path. Or spread out on the pavement, sunning itself. Both of these things I have seen more than a dozen times so far, in three days, here in Brunswick. I think the squirrels retire to this place.
Walking around the Bowdoin campus is a pleasure. It's beautiful - buildings nestled nicely between lots of trees, lots of timeless architecture and functional interiors that rival colleges many times its size. The library is very beautiful, but I'm not sure of what its holdings are. The music library is VERY small and has VERY limited holdings - a bit disappointing, but perhaps a good excuse to learn some more classical repertoire with which I am not entirely acquainted.
Put another way, there's not a lot from the last 100 years.
The gym, on the other hand, is fantastic. The free weight room is particularly nice, with more weights than two football teams could take up and a water fountain that apparently has an unending supply of water kept at the perfect temperature. Even better: it's next door to the recital hall where composer practice rooms are.
I'll spend most of the rest of the day writing - I've already made some good progress on songs for guitar and voice that are settings of text by Linda Loomis - excerpts from her book, "Apple Tree Summer." After working through the most recent piece, "Apologies," with Ken Meyer, writing for guitar has become an intriguing challenge for me. I think it might reinforce some of the sonic tendencies that I'm starting to adopt as my "voice" is developing.
Lastly: I have never seen so many squirrels walking. I have seen squirrels run, many of them. But it is on a rare occasion that I see a squirrel strolling along a path. Or spread out on the pavement, sunning itself. Both of these things I have seen more than a dozen times so far, in three days, here in Brunswick. I think the squirrels retire to this place.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Bowdoin (BOH-den)
For the next 6 weeks I will be at the Bowdoin Music Festival in Brunswick, ME. I'm here as a composer, but hopefully will get to spend some time practicing, too.
I arrived yesterday around 5:00 pm. Things are beautiful here - the campus reminds me very much of Vassar; more trees, though (perhaps fewer varieties - I'm not much of an arborist). General orientation meetings have happened and the people I've met so far seem nice. One of my roomates, Josh from Australia, seems like someone I will most certainly get along with - he's a violist to boot.
Visited the Hannaford (grocery store) this morning early (around 8) and am doing some work before an 11 O'clock meeting with Claude Baker, the first session composition faculty member, to figure out schedules, masterclasses, etc.
There are A LOT of master classes and concerts scheduled even in just this first week - I think about 11 events in all. I am excited to hear a lot of repertoire and hear some first-class musicians do some coaching (Glenn Dicterow and Liang Wang are both going to be here next week!).
Just have to remember to do some writing, too...
I arrived yesterday around 5:00 pm. Things are beautiful here - the campus reminds me very much of Vassar; more trees, though (perhaps fewer varieties - I'm not much of an arborist). General orientation meetings have happened and the people I've met so far seem nice. One of my roomates, Josh from Australia, seems like someone I will most certainly get along with - he's a violist to boot.
Visited the Hannaford (grocery store) this morning early (around 8) and am doing some work before an 11 O'clock meeting with Claude Baker, the first session composition faculty member, to figure out schedules, masterclasses, etc.
There are A LOT of master classes and concerts scheduled even in just this first week - I think about 11 events in all. I am excited to hear a lot of repertoire and hear some first-class musicians do some coaching (Glenn Dicterow and Liang Wang are both going to be here next week!).
Just have to remember to do some writing, too...
Monday, May 10, 2010
Living in the Past
Recently I was struck by a similarity in business and music while listening to the radio:
On Monday I heard a report on "Marketplace," the American Public Media program, about the debate over Facebook's privacy policy. The debate in the senate over whether you should have to 'opt-in' instead of being given the (debateably) difficult task of choosing to 'opt-out' seems like a potent issue with points on either side.
One of the pros cited for allowing Facebook's database to be available to sites was that we could potentially be lead to products and services that we might enjoy based on our previous likes and dislikes (if Facebook ever heads the calls for a dislike button). To my way of thinking this is perhaps the worst reason to allow Facebook's data to be broadcast across the web, and for a number of reasons:
First, our consumerism-to-the-max attitude is what got us into the recession we are now just beginning to escape. Sure, it leads to strong buying and earnings for companies, but what we need is a more efficient, global system, not one that requires us to spend more. If we choose the latter then what are we left with?
Second, advertising has not become responsible or sophisticated enough in a Web-3 kind of way that it would be anything short of a hindrance, constantly miscalculating our wants and needs - perhaps confusing the two (as we do on occasion)?
Now, even supposing these first two points are wrong, there is a third issue that overshadows them both: the social isolation and dependence on the familiar that things like Facebook-information-sharing enables and encourages is such that it limits not only ourselves but our economy.
As a consumer base we have become more superlative than innovative. The reliance on the familiar, the need for a trusted brand name or piece of jargon merely inhibits, in an ever-increasing way, the ability of the consumer to want and need a product that will push the given market in a new direction. Innovations like Apple's iPhone and Amazon's Kindle are fewer and farther between. Consequently we just want faster and cheaper instead of newer and more imaginative. Good shoppers always lament the scarcity of people who do good research on products through publications like Consumer Reports or the BBB. These avenues aren't pursued merely out of laziness and complacency for the familiar. McShopping anyone? This attitude represents many ideological problems. If we become reliant (ie. we need it more than just enjoy it) on the familiar will we become so much so that progress will actually slow due to our inability to cope or support truly ground-breaking change?
As a contemporary classical musician this feels like a conceptual repeat. For decades music has become more and more of an aphrodisiac, made to soothe and calm, rather than intrigue and stimulate as art is supposed to. As on Facebook, the boundaries between living life and advertising have been blurred. Shouldn't we consider shaking off some of this illusory 'familiarity'? Does a recommendation from Joe in Montana carry more weight than our gut feelings? If so, why? Why can't we trust ourselves anymore, even just to have an adventure and respond to the world, instead of hoping that it responds to us?
On Monday I heard a report on "Marketplace," the American Public Media program, about the debate over Facebook's privacy policy. The debate in the senate over whether you should have to 'opt-in' instead of being given the (debateably) difficult task of choosing to 'opt-out' seems like a potent issue with points on either side.
One of the pros cited for allowing Facebook's database to be available to sites was that we could potentially be lead to products and services that we might enjoy based on our previous likes and dislikes (if Facebook ever heads the calls for a dislike button). To my way of thinking this is perhaps the worst reason to allow Facebook's data to be broadcast across the web, and for a number of reasons:
First, our consumerism-to-the-max attitude is what got us into the recession we are now just beginning to escape. Sure, it leads to strong buying and earnings for companies, but what we need is a more efficient, global system, not one that requires us to spend more. If we choose the latter then what are we left with?
Second, advertising has not become responsible or sophisticated enough in a Web-3 kind of way that it would be anything short of a hindrance, constantly miscalculating our wants and needs - perhaps confusing the two (as we do on occasion)?
Now, even supposing these first two points are wrong, there is a third issue that overshadows them both: the social isolation and dependence on the familiar that things like Facebook-information-sharing enables and encourages is such that it limits not only ourselves but our economy.
As a consumer base we have become more superlative than innovative. The reliance on the familiar, the need for a trusted brand name or piece of jargon merely inhibits, in an ever-increasing way, the ability of the consumer to want and need a product that will push the given market in a new direction. Innovations like Apple's iPhone and Amazon's Kindle are fewer and farther between. Consequently we just want faster and cheaper instead of newer and more imaginative. Good shoppers always lament the scarcity of people who do good research on products through publications like Consumer Reports or the BBB. These avenues aren't pursued merely out of laziness and complacency for the familiar. McShopping anyone? This attitude represents many ideological problems. If we become reliant (ie. we need it more than just enjoy it) on the familiar will we become so much so that progress will actually slow due to our inability to cope or support truly ground-breaking change?
As a contemporary classical musician this feels like a conceptual repeat. For decades music has become more and more of an aphrodisiac, made to soothe and calm, rather than intrigue and stimulate as art is supposed to. As on Facebook, the boundaries between living life and advertising have been blurred. Shouldn't we consider shaking off some of this illusory 'familiarity'? Does a recommendation from Joe in Montana carry more weight than our gut feelings? If so, why? Why can't we trust ourselves anymore, even just to have an adventure and respond to the world, instead of hoping that it responds to us?
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Where did they all go wrong?
I'm not sure what's happened to the idea of being a student, but it has changed - and not for the better.
I'm teaching a class on counterpoint right now. I love it. I think the concepts central to writing good counterpoint are the foundation for all of music. After all, harmonic practice and voice-leading are both derived (to some extent) from counterpoint. The handling of dissonance and consonance have been the foremost issues of harmonic practice for the last 600 years and those are precisely the issues that the practice of counterpoint tackles. Why, then, would a music student, someone ostensibly forging a path to a career in music, not leap at the opportunity to unravel these secrets? I don't know. Maybe they just don't get it yet. That's fine - I would be happy if even a minimal effort were shown. Things are much bleaker still:
I assigned a paper a number of weeks ago about the last movement of the Jupiter Symphony (Mozart, k. 551 for the uninitiated). It's a beautiful finale to the symphony, weaving in passages of elegantly crafted imitative counterpoint and building to a coda (the movement is in sonata form) that is a fugue. GENIUS! But that's old-hat from Mozart. The concepts of synthesis and evolution in the context of sonata form that imitative counterpoint makes possible are, as is the best of Mozart, transcendent. I asked my students to write about the use of counterpoint in this movement - how/when is it used? to what effect? How does it change the musical outlook, having more than a homophonic or melody-and-accompaniment structure available? On the first try I got back play-by-plays of the music - not remotely analytical or insightful.
I inquired as to why that was. Apparently at the institution where I work - a major university - the music history department has not taught them how to write a research paper in a proper academic style (like not in the first person, no colloquialisms, etc.) and with citations (APA style, you know, the kind the big kids use). Shock. Horror.
I gave them a primer on paper-writing, having to actually inform them that quoting Wikipedia is NOT acceptable in ANY paper. I gave them a week and a half to rewrite these 3-page papers. Pretty generous, I thought.
Then came day of reckoning. They were to come to class, papers in hand. I, of course, got a handful of emails telling me about printer trouble and that the paper was attached. OK, I can handle printing the paper, no problem. But, there was one particularly egregious condition over which I am still fuming: I have 20 students in this class. 10 were in class. I received 12 papers total without so much as a note from the remaining 8.
Quite apart from being inconsiderate and disrespectful to me and their classmates, I fail to see how the lack of personal and professional responsibility has been allowed to grow unchecked, like an intellectual cancer, in the lives of these students. Sure, we all slack off, hand things in late occasionally with sob-story emails that we spent more time crafting than the assignment, but never have I seen the likes of trying to justify non-engagement.
This country, for all of its prosperity and freedom, has engendered a false sense of entitlement in the adults(?) currently enrolled at the undergraduate level. They act as if they are to be presented with information, like college is just an extension of the required education system, brimming with knowledge to be spoon-fed to them. They live a multiple-choice, fill-in-the-blank intellectual existence. Pretty bleak. Where does it come from?
----
This past summer I worked for Say Yes to Education in Syracuse. They are an organization designed to get elementary and highschool kids excited about learning, about the power and confidence that having a well-developed mind brings. Kind of...
After two weeks of highfalutin workshops on educational theory and lesson-plan making 'counselors' were sent to teach groups of 20-odd 1st-4th graders at a time twice a day for five weeks. The implementation of these workshops as a teaching aid and lesson-plans as an organizational (and evaluative) tool was little more than sketchy at best, but that's for another time. Things really fell to pieces when the district's policies came into play. Rule-following was of paramount importance, trumping even the most basic of common-sense considerations. For the adults, I mean.
I think during the course of those five weeks this past summer I generated something on the order of 5,000 pages of media (copies included). I filled out almost every form in duplicate, somtimes up to quadruplicate. This was all because the system for gaining permission from parents was set in stone; unquestionable. For instance, every child was required to have a medical emergency card with parents' names, telephone numbers, doctors' information, etc. Great idea! Cards were sent home with the kids on day one for them to bring back filled-out before the first field trip. We were still sorting these things out before the final day's field trip because the method of return, the (rightly) unreliable kids, was an asinine means to gain essential information.
At one point during the summer I noticed that all of this information already existed in two other places: First, each child, necessarily being enrolled in the district, had one of these cards already on file in the main office (but it was yellow, not purple - obviously unusable). Second, this information existed on the application that each parent filled out before the child could be enrolled in the summer camp. I said to my boss, "Why can't we just use the information we already have so that we can get to the other work (like getting supplies that never materialized) that NEEDS to be done for these kids to have effective learning experiences?"
"Because it's policy." was the retort.
Probably "That's stupid." was an inappropriate response, but lo and behold it escaped my lips and I met with the candor that inspired in quick time. But in all seriousness, because the other office workers and I could not spend time coordinating the pressing material issues, because we were sidelined trying to adhere to a literal policy whose goals could be met without literally having that stupid purple card in hand, we could not effectively manage and develop the support that the classes needed. How difficult would it have been to create a master binder with copies of all this information? It may have taken 2 maybe 3 hours. There were DAYS spent on making phone calls, creating duplicate cards to fill out, etc.
Policy, dogma, adherence without understanding. These are the plagues of the educational system and, sadly, they seem to be trickling through to the students' methods of learning. They don't want to know concept, they want to know answers. They want to pass tests (regents, anyone?) and they want to get good grades. They don't want to be handed information as if it is a currency to be handed back in exchange for a grade.
Why are we bartering with information? Has the idea of being intellectually engaged become so abhorrent in our society that we refuse to even teach how to do it anymore? Are we so scared of wanting to be elite?
"Oh, you're some kind of intellectual elitist." I've heard many written-off in this way because they choose to value thought and argument. They choose to want to learn, to be curious and they expect the same from others. They expect society to engage at a level that takes up its problems and works towards progress, not merely tread water as vigorously as possible in the name of simulating action. What's so bad about aspiring to elitism anyway? Everyone wants to be at the top of their particular game. Everyone wants to be the best. To appreciate that and engender a competitive and critical (not malicious) attitude in people seems to be the way that we might think together instead of against one another. If elitism is the attitude that advocates an "elite" ideal as a primary force in a given society, what's so bad about that? Let's aim high!
Until then, more frustration with laziness.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Stand... or else?
I've been subbing as a choir accompanist on a semi-regular basis at a couple area churches here, in and around Syracuse. Each time I go there is some doubt in my mind as to what my role really is. Sure, I have to know the music and be able to work with the musicians (who come from every extreme of the music literacy spectrum). But, to what extent am I there as a kind of "praise leader"? If I am 'in charge' of leading the musical portion of the worship for that day am I also obligated to act in the mold that the church desires of its members? Am I then merely a hired gun, not able to take the moments in whatever sanctuary to worship in my own way? (This is less a concern of mine, being über-protestant)
I've been unsure of where my duties end and where my sense of personal obligation picks up. However, something that happened this past Sunday set me off in a new direction. I was playing at a Catholic service. It was one for which I had subbed four or five times. This time, however, one of the members of the choir asked that I stand during certain portions of the mass. This was by no means a huge request, but the statement behind the actions requested from me was unsettling. Maybe it was on principle (out of defiance?) that I questioned whether or not I should honor the choir member's request - I'm just here to play the songs, lady! Right?...
I eventually stood at the appointed times, but couldn't help feeling a little dishonest. Somehow when the decision to 'play along' for the sake of the congregation fell on my shoulders I was more comfortable with doing so.
I'm still not sure what I'm being asked to do when I lead music for a service.
I've been unsure of where my duties end and where my sense of personal obligation picks up. However, something that happened this past Sunday set me off in a new direction. I was playing at a Catholic service. It was one for which I had subbed four or five times. This time, however, one of the members of the choir asked that I stand during certain portions of the mass. This was by no means a huge request, but the statement behind the actions requested from me was unsettling. Maybe it was on principle (out of defiance?) that I questioned whether or not I should honor the choir member's request - I'm just here to play the songs, lady! Right?...
I eventually stood at the appointed times, but couldn't help feeling a little dishonest. Somehow when the decision to 'play along' for the sake of the congregation fell on my shoulders I was more comfortable with doing so.
I'm still not sure what I'm being asked to do when I lead music for a service.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Recess
I was talking to my mom today about a lady that has 'pioneered' a program for organized recess in California. The program, which schools pay $50K for, teaches basic games and conflict resolution (in no small part using Rock-Paper-Scissors) to inner-city kids. After working with city kids all summer I know that this kind of guidance is needed, but I question the need for this kind of costly and, seemingly, common-sense program. Why aren't teachers teaching the tools of organization, conflict resolution, etc? Is there any (public) school that isn't so bogged down by bureaucracy and propriety that they can make an attempt to teach tools instead of information. Has the "curriculum" of our public school system become so dogmatic and prescribed that we have lost all adaptability and, terrifyingly enough, imagination? I'm going to check the documentary tomorrow - perhaps that will spark an update...
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
WebLog?
I just wrote the following piece and submitted it to NewMusicBox.com. I think it has some validity, although I am trying to suss-out how to implement it with my own site - I think it's going to take some major revision. It's an exciting thought (to me, anyway).
Composers are constantly looking for exposure. I think that all of us, at some level, hope to burst forth from the bubble that is “new music” and have some kind of mass appeal; à la Copland (but bigger!) might be the thought. Of course we all strive towards whatever artistic ends we might have the skill or luck to achieve, but there is, in this media-dominated society, a bastion of antiquated form. It seems strange to say it aloud given that the advent of this particular device was maybe two decades ago, perhaps less in the compositional realm. I am writing, of course, about personal web pages. Each of us who is serious about our compositional endeavor has been at least counseled to get a web page. Depending on our technical prowess we trim (or pay somebody to do so) our pages like commercial Christmas trees (redundant?) in the hope that we can appeal to any who stumble by our nook of the internet.
There is a logical oversight in all of this. If we are sequestered in our new music world, then our web pages are as well to some degree. Certainly the facility and accessibility of the net might lead someone by chance to encounter our pages, but there is little reason to say that they would be interested or know what they are looking at. Moreover, most composer web pages fall into one of three categories: the super-minimal self-ad, the gaudy graphics-bedazzled self-ad, and the barebones-of-html self-ad. (Certainly there are suave, well-chiseled web pages, but we all know that hired help usually makes those.) In the end all that matters is that these web pages are our only outlets of ‘free’ (minus hosting fee) publicity. We can inform, debate, update, expose, etc. on these pages. Why do so few do this?
Web pages seem to have fallen into a resume-derived script. We need a page about concerts, upcoming works, bio, pictures (if you can avoid breaking the lens, in which case I envy you), audio files, news, etc. Some people have figured out the email mailer, but that is far from the streamlined blog style of an RSS feed or the like. Why shouldn’t we style our pages after blogs, updating our throngs of fans about what we’re working on by talking about what we’re reading, writing, listening to, etc. If nothing else it could be a rewarding creative reflection, and at best it could give some much-needed writing practice (in words) to many who may need it. Access to this information by listeners could be crucial to understanding artistic vision, exposing new art, or anything in-between.
Cell phones. We have them. iPhones, Blackberries: many composers I know, despite our pay, have them. Smart phones seem to be the future of everyone’s communications arsenal. Why, then, are we not taking advantage of this? At a given concert I would wager that half the audience has smart phones. If they are confronted with a piece by a (gasp!) living composer and a stodgy program note they probably want more if they aren’t a classical music buff. Since the internet (or interweb, as I prefer) is now everywhere, all the time, they could have access, given our work on the right kind of web pages, to a plethora of information pertaining to compositional process, personal taste, life events influencing our art, etc. which would never in a million years make it onto a “respectable” program. We have the opportunity to create great visibility not just for our would-be professional personas but for our honest-to-goodness artistic selves, with all of our faults and prejudices on display for any curious listener or reader to measure out.
That sounds like the kind of publicity I want. I’m going to overhaul my website by the end of August. Give it a try (or at least start an adjunct blog on Blogger or Wordpress) – it could be a great parallel creative outlet that pays off in publicity.
Composers are constantly looking for exposure. I think that all of us, at some level, hope to burst forth from the bubble that is “new music” and have some kind of mass appeal; à la Copland (but bigger!) might be the thought. Of course we all strive towards whatever artistic ends we might have the skill or luck to achieve, but there is, in this media-dominated society, a bastion of antiquated form. It seems strange to say it aloud given that the advent of this particular device was maybe two decades ago, perhaps less in the compositional realm. I am writing, of course, about personal web pages. Each of us who is serious about our compositional endeavor has been at least counseled to get a web page. Depending on our technical prowess we trim (or pay somebody to do so) our pages like commercial Christmas trees (redundant?) in the hope that we can appeal to any who stumble by our nook of the internet.
There is a logical oversight in all of this. If we are sequestered in our new music world, then our web pages are as well to some degree. Certainly the facility and accessibility of the net might lead someone by chance to encounter our pages, but there is little reason to say that they would be interested or know what they are looking at. Moreover, most composer web pages fall into one of three categories: the super-minimal self-ad, the gaudy graphics-bedazzled self-ad, and the barebones-of-html self-ad. (Certainly there are suave, well-chiseled web pages, but we all know that hired help usually makes those.) In the end all that matters is that these web pages are our only outlets of ‘free’ (minus hosting fee) publicity. We can inform, debate, update, expose, etc. on these pages. Why do so few do this?
Web pages seem to have fallen into a resume-derived script. We need a page about concerts, upcoming works, bio, pictures (if you can avoid breaking the lens, in which case I envy you), audio files, news, etc. Some people have figured out the email mailer, but that is far from the streamlined blog style of an RSS feed or the like. Why shouldn’t we style our pages after blogs, updating our throngs of fans about what we’re working on by talking about what we’re reading, writing, listening to, etc. If nothing else it could be a rewarding creative reflection, and at best it could give some much-needed writing practice (in words) to many who may need it. Access to this information by listeners could be crucial to understanding artistic vision, exposing new art, or anything in-between.
Cell phones. We have them. iPhones, Blackberries: many composers I know, despite our pay, have them. Smart phones seem to be the future of everyone’s communications arsenal. Why, then, are we not taking advantage of this? At a given concert I would wager that half the audience has smart phones. If they are confronted with a piece by a (gasp!) living composer and a stodgy program note they probably want more if they aren’t a classical music buff. Since the internet (or interweb, as I prefer) is now everywhere, all the time, they could have access, given our work on the right kind of web pages, to a plethora of information pertaining to compositional process, personal taste, life events influencing our art, etc. which would never in a million years make it onto a “respectable” program. We have the opportunity to create great visibility not just for our would-be professional personas but for our honest-to-goodness artistic selves, with all of our faults and prejudices on display for any curious listener or reader to measure out.
That sounds like the kind of publicity I want. I’m going to overhaul my website by the end of August. Give it a try (or at least start an adjunct blog on Blogger or Wordpress) – it could be a great parallel creative outlet that pays off in publicity.
Monday, July 06, 2009
That's Inconceivable!
Recently on NewMusicBox.com Colin Holter wrote about trying to create music that sounded bad but was good. This seems impossible for two reasons: First, if music sounds bad and you are bothering to listen to more than the surface it is. The end. You can't polish a turd, so the saying goes. Second, if you try to write music and you are writing in anything other than your own voice (which would be necessary to speak in a 'bad-sounding' musical langugage) your music will inevitably be bad in sound and construction. You can't write in a musical language which seems foreign enough to be called bad. The root idea is the same as it has ever been: write what you know and know what you are writing.
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