Musically Miscellaneous Mayhem

AMS San Francisco 2011 Saturday, November 12

2011-11-12T11:21:00.003-05:00

What a pleasure to attend an entire session and to enjoy all four papers! The Cage and Friends session was very engaging and I enjoyed the recollections of Gordon Mumma, who served as the session's co-chair. He requested that the questions be kept concise, that they should actually resemble questions, and that the answers should likewise be kept short. I'd love to see these rules printed on a banner and posted in every session. People observed these guidelines for the most part, and the net effect was that I rather enjoyed the Q and A portion of each paper. See my previous post for a list of the papers.

The session also worked well because there was a fair amount of cohesion, making for a rather lovely academic symphony. The outer movements, if you will, were papers by Brett Boutwell and Phil Gentry. What I enjoyed most about these two papers is how they addressed larger issues within musicology, using Feldman and Cage as examples. Boutwell explored the genesis of Feldman's Projections, and how Feldman transmitted and attributed a variety of influences on his work, and his ideas for graphic notation. Phil Gentry's paper on Cage's famous book Silence, adressed issues of autobiography and how we may be too quick to dismiss interpretations of these works with which their original authors might have disagreed. The paper looked at the "covert values" of Indeterminacy in Cage's "narrative" and most importantly, noted the lack of focus on 4'33" within the book. What writings Cage chose to include or not include is perhaps as much a part of the autobiographical narrative as the work itself.

The two inner movements were also very fascinating, and I appreciated the humble confession by You Nakai regarding his slight nervousness presenting in front of Gordon Mumma, who entertained with numerous yet relevant anecdotes about the creation of these pieces and Cage's life in general. Richard Brown's paper taught me much about Richard Lippold, a sculptor about whom I knew little. Most intriguing was his investigation of curatorial strategies and their impact on art, particularly the reception of the artist.

AMS 2011 San Francisco Introductory post

2011-11-11T10:51:00.003-05:00

Well, it is that time of year again, when musicologists from North America and beyond converge in a city to hear papers on myriad topics, eat, drink, and generally be merry. I've always maintained that there are two best case scenarios for a conference: a boring conference in a fantastic city or a fantastic conference in a boring city. This year might be challenging because there are plenty of papers I'd like to see, but....it is San Francisco! As a California native, I have very little excuse for not knowing this city better than I do.

I missed the one paper I really wanted to see yesterday due to less-than-stellar registration/maintenance issues at the hotel. However, I did dine at Gary Danko...thought to be, by many, the best restaurant in the city. I will write a detailed post about that dinner on my cooking blog, complete with photos. Suffice to say, it was an amazing meal, but I should have trained myself to eat such a large volume of food. More on that later. I am blessed to have AMS be an extension of my birthday celebration every year, and my annual dinner with my best friend is worth the trip across the country, even without AMS.

Today, I plan on attending an entire session. This is rare..usually I jump from paper to paper. From 9 to 12 I will be at the John Cage and Friends session listening to the following papers:

Brett Boutwell, "Morton Feldman's Projections Origins, Development, and Spin"
You Nakai, "To Imitate Their Manner of Operation: John Cage's use of Technological Media as Metaphorical Models in the 1950s and 60s"
Richard Brown, "Hearing Through, Seeing Through: John Cage, Richard Lippold, and Open Sculpture"
And then finally a paper by my friend and fantastic fellow blogger Phil Gentry, "Writing Silence

As I prepare my Cage seminar for next semester, I am excited to have the opportunity to hear some of the most recent research on Cage. A full report will follow.

Very happy to be here.

Apologies for the lack of italics... I'm figure out how to use my iPad. :)

In memoriam Milton Babbitt (May 10, 1916 - January 29, 2011)

2011-01-29T21:35:00.008-05:00

The tributes and musings are many:
Matthew Guerrieri
Steve Hicken
Lisa Hirsch
Allan Kozinn
Norman Lebrecht
David Mermelstein (Bloomberg)
Miss Music Nerd
NPR
On An Overgrown Path (Pliable)
Alex Ross
Tim Rutherford-Johnson (The Rambler)
Sequenza 21 (Steve Layton)

I'm not sure what to say. All I know is that there was a day back in 1997 when "20th-Century music" no longer mystified me, and I knew I wanted to focus my research on all it had to offer. Milton Babbitt's name loomed large--as a god in a pantheon not wholly formed. I was fortunate to hear many tales of "Uncle Milty" from my graduate school adviser, but will forever regret never meeting him in person.

Tending our gardens

2011-01-11T09:17:00.004-05:00

"This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before." ~ Leonard Bernstein

In the wake of the events in Tucson, several of my friends posted this quote to their Facebook profiles, and it gave me pause, mostly because I felt rather uncomfortable. Part of me thought, “Yes, Gabby Giffords, you are in critical condition due to a bullet through your head, so I'm going to choir practice.” Then I batted snarky, cynical Rebecca off my left shoulder (or is it my right?), and listened to the more present Rebecca who teaches too many classes and is exhausted all the time, but holds back tears every time she plays the finale of Stravinky's Firebird or Josquin’s Ave Maria for her students.

Bernstein’s statement was made after Kennedy’s assassination in 1963 (and if anyone can give me the exact source I’ll be indebted), and I wouldn’t be surprised if non-musicians, entrenched in their grief, might have had a mixed reaction to the statement at the time. But I hope that they took some time to really mull it over, as I have, because it has forced me to think a lot about what I do and my place in the world.

Sometimes making music and teaching music history seems terribly self-indulgent. Yes, I happen to think teaching is a very “noble profession” but at the end of the day, whose life am I saving? I’m one of those people who cringe on the airplane when they ask, “Is there a doctor on board?” because I know I’m not the kind of doctor they need. Yes, I know I have an impact, and I’m not claiming that we all have to be rushing into burning buildings for a living to have our work be meaningful. I watch my students bloom and grow over the course of a semester in ways not even remotely related to the subject matter. But sometimes it is difficult to see the value of what I do in my little flower garden, when it is such a tiny part of a global landscape that is covered in thorns.

I do believe in responding to violence with beauty, rather than hate, of course. As one of my friends noted, it isn’t a solution, certainly, but it is a response. But I think it is Bernstein’s directive to make music more “intensely” that is important here. We’ve all heard performances that are “intense” (not “tense,” mind you)---maybe you had tears in your eyes, or found yourself at a loss for words. In a way, it is a rather vague word because “intense” can have very individualized meaning. One might even argue that the alleged gunman who claimed six lives on Saturday was “intense.” But the intensity of which Bernstein speaks is so potent precisely because it DOES have the power to be beautiful, to stand up against the violence of the world and say, “I’m still here.”

So, in the end, I think Bernstein asks us to engage with beauty in a way that reaffirms its presence in the world. And I don’t think this is limited to music, or even the arts. Violence claims not only lives, but it plants seeds of further violence—especially when we are focused on being angry. Anger is important, yes…but only as a means to an end. I’m terribly angry when I think about Christina Green, and how she will never grow up to live out her potential. I’m angry when I see how our political battlefield has consumed our lives to such a degree that while Gabby Giffords fights for her life, we are screaming at each other about whose rhetoric is to blame, rather than seeing how we are all responsible for rhetoric running our lives in the first place. But that anger is intensity and I have a choice of what to do with it. I have the choice to create beauty. I have the obligation to create beauty as a musical professional. I think we all have that obligation. Every day at work is an opportunity to be generous, one that we probably don’t take as often as we should. I consider myself very lucky that what I do for a living is, for me, a large part of what it means to live. So, I choose to maintain a healthy perspective—no, teaching music history isn’t going to stop a very sick man armed with a gun from opening fire on a crowd of people. And I’m certainly not going to cloister myself away from my rights and responsibilities as a citizen to speak out against injustices and what I regard as irresponsible legislation. I am, however, going to value the opportunities I have to be intensely devoted to creating beauty, because, to borrow from Bernstein, that is the way to make our garden grow.

AMS Indianapolis 2010: Apologies, Musings, and Summaries

2010-11-06T10:35:00.003-05:00

First, I'd like to issue a public apology to Ryan and Drew for missing amusicology's gathering on Thursday night. That tops the list of regrets I always seem to accumulate at every AMS conference, due to too many plans and not enough time.

Secondly, I apologize AGAIN to Ryan for missing what I'm sure was an absolutely spectacular paper: "Rewriting the History of (Symphonic) Jazz: Duke Ellington's arrangements of Rhapsody in Blue."

My list of regrets is rather long this year due to several cross-schedulings that I wish had not been (Elizabeth Morgan's paper on Haydn's C Major Fantasia (Pianism session) against the Haydn and Mozart session?? It would have been nice if she had been on the second half of the Pianism session and therefore at least up against Mozart, instead of Haydn). Apologies to Elizabeth.

And Phil's very thoughtful post on Michael Broyles paper, "Beethoven Was Black. Why Does It Matter" was MUCH appreciated since I couldn't make it to that session.

On the flipside, I did get to hear Dean Sutcliffe talk about the "shapes of sociability" and the 'gracious riposte' in Haydn's music. This was followed by a presentation on Haydn's lesser known second opera house at Esterháza, bringing together the work of a musicologist, theater historian, and an acoustician.

Tim Carter's paper on Kurt Weill and the Federal Theater Project was illuminating and certainly the most engaging paper in terms of delivery that I've yet to see this year. I also enjoyed YouYoung Kang's offerings on the WPA and the sort of political overtones/current state-of-affairs ushered in by the audience comments.

Danielle Fossler-Lussier's paper, "'The right and best ambassador': Marian Anderson, Louis Armstrong, and the U.S. Reception of Cultural Diplomacy" was eye-opening in the way it demonstrated how being a cultural ambassador abroad can often be a "no-win" situation here at home, where "representation" is such a muddled mess of a concept.

Now, I'm gearing up for the Haydn Society of North America meeting--looking forward to fruitful discussion!

Critiquing the Critic: The Don Rosenberg Ordeal

2010-08-10T10:30:00.008-05:00

Let us say, for the sake of argument, that we agree that music criticism (and arts criticism, in general) is, in itself, an art. Certainly it takes a measure of creativity to mold “It stinks” into:

While we are enjoying the delight of so much science and melody, and eagerly anticipating its continuance, on a sudden, like the fleeting pleasures of life, or the spirited young adventurer, who would fly from ease and comfort at home to the inhospitable shores of New Zealand or Lake Ontario, we are snatched away from such eloquent music, to crude, wild and extraneous harmonies…(Review of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in the Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review, London, 1825—See Nicolas Slonimsky: Lexicon of Musical Invective, 44).

While we might chuckle at the historic evaluation of a Beethovenian masterpiece as “crude”, there is certainly no question that the reviewer is engaging in the act of music criticism. The critique is an expression of opinion---in the above example we learn, in addition to Beethoven’s Ninth, the writer is also not disposed toward the shores of New Zealand.

All of this is my opening salvo to, what I hope, is a springboard for further discussion and dialogue surrounding the Donald Rosenberg case. I will offer several links in this piece to people who have been covering this conflict from the beginning, but will give a quick snapshot from the New Yorker for those who may not be familiar with the case:

The Cleveland Plain Dealer created a scandal when it demoted its staff classical-music critic, Donald Rosenberg, to general arts-reporter status because of his overwhelmingly negative reviews of the Cleveland Orchestra-specifically its conductor, Franz Welser-Möst. Now Rosenberg is suing the conductor, the Plain Dealer, the orchestra, and specific staff members of both organizations, detailing a conspiracy in which the orchestra put massive pressure on the newspaper.”[1]

In a nutshell, the lawsuit happened, and Mr. Rosenberg lost. Read Anne Midgette's (Washington Post) take here. In an engaging and all-too-brief TweetChat last night, Peter Friedman (law professor at Case Western Reserve) commented on the frivolity of the lawsuit from a legal standpoint. The chat, conducted on the social networking site Twitter, formally featured Friedman, Tim Smith (classical music critic at the Baltimore Sun), and Janice Harayda (novelist and editor of One-Minute Book Reviews). Several other “tweeps,” including this writer, also chimed in. The discussion can be tracked/read on Twitter using the hashtag #DonR. Friedman has admirably covered the legal issues, or lack thereof, and has offered his opinions on the aforementioned at his blog.

While I tentatively concur, given my admitted lack of legal expertise, that Mr. Rosenberg did not have legal grounds to file suit against the Cleveland Orchestra and Plain Dealer, I do think the larger issue bears examination by anyone interested in arts criticism, either from the reader’s perspective, the writer’s perspective, or that of a performing organization. Mr. Rosenberg does indeed have the “right” to criticize Maestro Franz Welser-Möst’s conducting. The Cleveland Orchestra also has the “right” not to like it. No one questions the “right” to have opinions, or at least, I hope not. But what happens when your occupation is defined by your ability to give your opinion?

Let’s remove the sense of “art” from criticism and look at it as a bare bones employment issue. WANTED: Music Critic JOB DESCRIPTION: To give subjective and ‘informed’ evaluations of music and the performances thereof. This is an over-simplification, I realize. I also don’t know what the Cleveland Plain-Dealer’s job description looked like. But my point is this (and it has been made by others as well): Is the success of a critic based solely on giving good reviews? Certainly, if a critic seems to have an unreasonable axe to grind with a specific performer or organization, it might then be best to divide the criticism responsibilities, as Tim Smith suggested in the TweetChat last night: “I hate to second-guess an editor, but SG [Susan Goldberg] could have gone all Solomon and divvied up Franz reviews between Don and Zack [Lewis].” Barry Johnson, who has also blogged about the situation, offered another suggestion: “You could even [arrange] live encounters (Ali v. Frazier) and employed recordings of various versions of the music,” implying that even negative criticism can provide an opportunity to enlarge engagement with the arts.

The ramifications of this (and other similar cases) are frightening in an age where arts criticism is being cut from publications at an alarming rate. One point that did not get addressed in last night’s chat was the fact that the publisher of the Cleveland Plain-Dealer sits on the Board of the Cleveland Orchestra. This brings us to the next wrinkle: conflict of interest.

I am “connected” to multiple organizations in Boston: two conservatories, a chorus, and a handful of others in a less-direct way. I am sensitive to the conflict-of-interest issue, and I decline opportunities to review certain concerts because of it. However, the Boston-Musical Intelligencer, for which I write, and which has received initial support from the Harvard Musical Association, is ostensibly far more “connected” to myriad music organizations in the greater Boston area. I would venture less than six degrees of separation between most of the large organizations and our editor, Robert Levin. Does this mean we should avoid negative reviews of these organizations? Should we not review them at all? The Intelligencer’s goal, as stated on the website, is: “to review as many as possible, especially those deemed most important and unjustly neglected by our editors. Our reviewers are to be drawn from Boston’s most distinguished musicians and musical academics under the leadership of Robert Levin.” As with most journalistic publications, the editors make the decisions about what should be covered—no surprises there. That is the right of the publication. But does a publication have the right to control the nature of the reviews?

Don Rosenberg was not alone in his dislike of Franz Welser-Möst’s musical leadership. Two letters to the Editor of the CPD supported Rosenberg’s general assessment of Welser-Möst, claiming “When he conducts, the performances are below dull and boring on the classical music scale of excellence” and “[Welser-Möst] gave Debussy's "Iberia" an uninteresting, perfunctory, metronomic performance. He's out of synch when conducting the music of Debussy and Ravel.”[2] Rosenberg’s criticism, to be sure, was unflinching in its dislike of Welser-Möst’s “non-interventionist” approach in a review of a 2007 performance of Mahler’s Second Symphony:

When [Welser-Möst] wasn't pressing the orchestra toward ear-shattering harshness, [he] dropped dynamics to a whisper that sapped the music of all character. Even the serenity of the second movement was compromised as the ensemble toiled to maintain rhythmic unity. The third-movement Scherzo held no terror, and it was treated so rigidly that the marvelous trumpets had little space to sing.”[3]

I fail to see unsubstantiated invective in this particular review, although I do admit I am not a regular reader of Mr. Rosenberg’s work. It does lack any sugar-coating, that is for certain, but Rosenberg has also made sure to make his own expectations clear: “serenity” in the second movement and “terror” in the third.

Listening to music is such an extraordinary endeavor precisely because it can be such a contrasting experience for two different listeners. Music criticism, whether it is an art or a task, is not objective. If that were the case, the world would only need one über-critic to meet all our needs, and that would be that. A good review isn’t one with which you necessarily agree, but one that presents both an opinion and the subjective background for that opinion. Ostensibly, in the case of a professional music critic, the critic’s credentials testify to their own subjective background as well as their qualifications for the job. But the critic cannot give voice to the same sorts of artistic evaluation that so freely flows in letters to the editors, blog posts and comments, if he/she is going to be subject to “re-assignment” (or worse) over negative reviews. That is, in effect, impeding the ability of the critic to do his/her job.

So, we must decide, for ourselves, and as a supposedly “cultured” society, whether or not arts criticism is a valuable endeavor and component of the arts. The over-arching problem of politicization of the arts is a topic too large for this article, but I am aware that it lurks in the background, threatening to squash all my ideological naivete. If, as I wrote in the TweetChat last night, all we expect are “pandering, fluffy reviews,” then I think we are headed to a sorry place in our cultural history, where music performance and appreciation thereof will become the work of automatons whose ears receive musical input that is merely thrust back out, bypassing the heart and soul completely.

[1] http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/2008/12/cleveland-orche-1.html (accessed 10 August 2010)

[2] See letters by William Farragher and Roger Gilruth http://blog.cleveland.com/letters/2007/11/rosenberg_is_right_about_cleve.html (accessed 10 August 2010).

[3] Donald Rosenberg, Review of Cleveland Orchestra at Severance Hall, October 11, 2007. (Posted 12 October 2007). http://blog.cleveland.com/reviews/2007/10/cleveland_orchestra_welsermost.html (accessed 10 August 2010)

Note: A slightly revised/edited version of this post has been published at the Boston Musical Intelligencer

The Limits of Surprise

2010-07-20T08:29:00.006-05:00

Credit: Mona Lisa Pictures

Earlier this month, Greg Sandow reported here and here on a new recording of Haydn’s Symphony No. 94 “Surprise”, wherein the so-called “surprise” fortissimo chord is left out of the second movement, creating a fresh “surprise” for the modern listener. As is often the case when reading Sandow’s posts, even the ones with which I don’t agree, I felt the familiar rumble of musicological mischief in the back of my mind (mischief on my part, that is). I regret that various writing assignments have kept me from blogging about this in a more timely manner, but I hope that the relevancy of the issue will outlast the month of July 2010.

Sandow writes:

A tired old issue: How dare we change the notes Haydn wrote? Isn't our job to realize his intentions? Even assuming that was true (and I think -- speaking as a composer myself -- that it's a very limited idea of what performance is), Haydn's most important intention here was the surprise. The notes are only his way of achieving it. So if the notes no longer can surprise us...do we really honor his intentions by stubbornly playing exactly what he wrote?

I don’t think the issue is tired at all, but is at the very crux of the continuing ~~polemic~~ dialogue between historically-informed performance, teaching of music history, “canonical” models, etc.

There are a few aspects here to consider. First and foremost is the issue of audience. It is true--I am no longer ‘surprised’ by the loud chord in the second movement, and yes, I’ve never seen a student jump out of their seat at a first hearing. I disagree with Sandow that Haydn’s most important intention was this one chord in the Andante. He was too good a composer to rest the success of a piece on an experience that can truly only be had once. I also don’t believe that Haydn was writing with the 2010 audience in mind, but instead was quite content to offer a surprise for his 1792 audience (as Griesinger confirms). As a musicologist and teacher, the success of the piece for me does not ride on that moment, but instead on the fact it exists at all. It is, as Steven Paul offered in 1975, “…a masterly surprise within a surprise, a practical joke, the musical equivalent of the punchline” ( Larsen/Serwer/Webster, eds. Haydn Studies, 452). Part of what defines Haydn is his contribution of wit to eighteenth century music. This is a fantastic example, but just one of many.

Sandow says of the recording:

For a while I listened with refreshed ears. But then I sank into the familiar non-expectation with which I listen to so many performances of standard repertoire. I know the music. The performance sounds fine, but it doesn't show me anything.

This opens up a second can of proverbial worms. I agree that every performance of any musical work should bring something new, but I probably disagree with Sandow about what that should be. Unlike traditional painting, for instance, music isn’t static and there is this dynamic aspect of performance that creates the work anew in some sense. One might offer that viewing the Mona Lisa would be a truly fresh experience if the painting were placed in a different frame, a different room, or with different lighting. But do we display the Mona Lisa upside down just to “show” something?

So this brings me back to the example at hand: Haydn’s “surprise.” I still smile knowing that Haydn is defying convention and throwing in a little laugh in the middle of a fairly trite theme and variations movement. The second movement is an entire package, not just that chord. Paul, with input from Walter Gerboth, calls the “surprise” a “gratuitous addition” and it is the gratuitousness of the chord that is the true surprise, rather than the force of Paukenschlag itself. Haydn’s point was just to insert a “novelty,” according to Griesinger, and while I think Minkowski’s recording offers a witty commentary on a brief moment in the piece, I also believe we should be careful about our expectations for performance. I may know every note of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, but that does not make the impassioned C Major affirmation of the fourth movement any less relevant to the piece than is the insistent four note motive. I don’t need grace notes added to the motive or a resounding C minor arpeggiation in the last movement as a postmodern commentary on what actually happened to Beethoven. While “as the composer intended” is indeed tricky terrain through which to navigate, there are limits to what we can “change” about a piece and still have it be a performance of THAT piece. The challenge of performing classical repertoire is that we maintain the preservation obligations of a museum, but the curatorial contexts are ever-changing and invite an unending dialogue between performer and listener.

The Joy of Critical Thinking

2010-06-29T13:24:00.005-05:00

Summer might seem like an odd time to blog about plagiarism, but it is a great opportunity for me to think about it, rather than react to it. At the end of the year I am inundated with plagiarized papers ranging from completely cut-and-paste jobs to citation infractions. I spend the first day of class reviewing plagiarism, how to cite, etc. and I pass out a "Guide to Citation," stressing that the attribution is more important to me than the format (at least for the classes where it is a large problem).

Because I teach music history to performers (primarily), I try to draw parallels between the plagiarism of musicological work and the Joyce Hatto scandal. Most of them find the idea of falsifying a recording fairly horrible, so I try to explain that plagiarism in their papers is no less offensive to me. The idealist in me supposes that this little speech does the trick, but then there it is again at the end of the semester: plagiarism everywhere.

A friend posted this intriguing article on his Facebook page, and it made me think more carefully about plagiarism and the assumptions I make. A lot of the plagiarism I encounter comes from students whose facility with written and spoken English is minimal. These are good students otherwise, who attend class regularly, turn in their assignments on time, and generally pass quizzes. There are, however, two major issues I have encountered that rise out of the same cultural conflict. The first is questioning authority figures. The second is fear of thinking critically.

I do not believe that students lack the ABILITY to think critically. I think, in the best cases, the ability simply hasn't been encouraged or cultivated, and in the worst cases, they have been taught to fear it. The language barrier, coupled with the cultural barrier, often means that when I say, "Is that clear?" it really isn't clear at all to them, but I'll never find out until it manifests in a plagiarized paper. A student once wrote in his/her evaluation: "Sometimes I have trouble understanding what we talk about in class, but I don't want to stop class to ask a question." Another student said she was worried about taking up my time with questions after class and felt it was disrespectful to make me read bad English.

So now I try to impart that I'd rather read their original thoughts in terrible English, than someone else's ideas and words in perfect prose. Most of them now write and rephrase in their own words, but I'm still struggling with getting them to use their own ideas, analyses, and reactions. I don't want to rule out the use of secondary sources completely, because I think they need to know how to use those as well (and sometimes that is all that is available). But how do I not only make them believe that I WANT to read their thoughts, but that their thoughts are also valuable to THEM?

I have various strategies (journals wherein they are graded on their own reaction to the music they hear, etc), but I'm eager to hear how the collective wisdom deals with these issues.

SAM 2010 Part II

2010-03-20T11:23:00.005-05:00

Phil has offered some very sane, well-phrased, and constructive criticisms of Thursday's seminar, and I certainly hope TPTB will take note. Let's see...where were we? Ah, yes, Friday afternoon.

One issue, but not necessarily problem, is that those of us blogging SAM2010 tend to go to the same sessions, but perhaps next year, we can recruit more bloggers to participate or do guest blogging spots, thereby "covering" a wider range of papers/events.

Like Drew, I attended the Cold War Anxieties session during the late morning of Friday. Phil's paper was, as expected, fantastic, and started churning a whole lot of thoughts in my mind. Even just listening to the snippet of Bernstein's "Age of Anxiety" got me thinking about de-volution in musical codas, and how much the end of the Epilogue seems like the reverse experience of Stravinsky's Firebird with its 'born from the ashes' finale. Phil talked about how it avoids "triumphalism," but I felt it used some of the same techniques inherent in "triumphant" endings, but to push it toward anxiety, rather than triumph. I can't wait to get home and spend some more time with the work. And that is what a good paper should do. We start the Cold War unit in my 'War and Music in the US' class on Tuesday, so Phil's paper and the others gave me a lot of food for thought. Jennifer Delapp-Birkett offered some revelations from the FBI files on Copland which are immediately relevant to my own research, so there is a contact I need to make. Keith Hatschek's paper on Dave Brubeck's 1958 State Dept.-sponsored tour was fascinating for interpolated questions of race, Cold War politics, and musical style. I also appreciated Leann Wood's paper on the Cold War reception of the film The Music Man, and found myself amused at the questions of martiality and regimented music that can be appropriated by either side .

My afternoon was spent at the Canadian Museum of Civilization. We had a great tour, including an excellent demonstration of hoop dancing (see photo). Our guide was one of the people who was instrumental in the development of the First Peoples exhibit and so we received very good insights into the questions of curation that come up when you have to negotiate anthropology and archaeology. Rather than pigeonhole each tribe or group into their own little museum slots, the approach at the Museum is more reflective of the cultural dialogue between groups, and between the past and present. He cited intermarriage and trade culture as two reasons to approach it this way. A very impressive museum in a fascinating building.

The evening ended at Drew and Phil's no-host blogger reception at the Armada Lounge. When we finally gained access to the Armada Lounge (which sits atop The Brig), we were pleased to welcome a large contingent from the SAM Student Dinner.

TODAY (Saturday)

I started my morning off with Rebecca Bennett's (Northwestern) paper, "Virgil Thomson and Theodor Adorno: An Unlikely Team Fights an "Appreciation Racket" and thought about the resonance of their criticism in today's climate (specifically the hullabaloo over WGBH/WCRB in Boston--the link is to just one of many related articles from the Boston Musical Intelligencer). Then I jumped over to hear David Paul's (UCSB) great paper, "Does the Cradle Still Rock? Recreating an Infamous Premiere on Film," which investigated, among other things, the political resonance of three screenplays for film versions of Blitzstein's Cradle Will Rock (Lardner, Welles, and Tim Robbins). Lastly, I caught my former graduate colleague Revell Carr's (UNC Greensboro) fascinating paper on Charles Derby's California Hula Tour in 1862. I had to banish images of grass skirts and coconut shells as Rev showed a photo of hula dancers in 1862 who looked like a cross between Gibson Girls and Hawaiian aboriginals. It was amusing to see Victorian sensibilities inform something that has been popularly linked with the erotic in the modern day (however erroneously).

I'm looking forward to this afternoon's panel on Composer-Fellowships at the American Academy in Rome, with presentations by Judith Tick, Carol Oja, and Martin Brody.

Pseudo-live-blogging Society for American Music 2010 (Ottawa)

2010-03-19T09:23:00.004-05:00

One of the great joys of these conferences is the opportunity to see friends and colleagues. Dinner last night with Phil , and sitting on a panel (of sorts) yesterday with Drew, made me realize I very much miss blogging. So, in an attempt to re-energize my own blogging endeavors, I'm going to offer a few summaries of various happenings here at SAM in BEAUTIFUL Ottawa.

Like Drew, I'd like to chat with the participants in the other "seminar" format session: "Nineteenth-Century American Music Studies." Our seminar session, "The Art of Association" was an interesting experiment with lots of room for improvement, but also a lot of future potential. Drew has summarized the logistics and the participants over at amusicology, so I won't repeat here, but it was a pleasure to be a guinea pig as SAM looks toward shaking things up a bit in the conference world. ;-)

Day 2 (Today) has been exciting, having heard two great papers thus far:

Maureen DeMaio (UC Santa Barbara), "The Decline of Anti-Semitic Antimodernism: Daniel Gregory Mason and American Responses to Nazism in the 1930s
Elissa Harbert (Northwestern), "Italian Musicians in the Early United States, 1780-1830"

Maureen is ABD at my graduate alma mater and presented a recasting of Mason as affected by both the rise of Nazism in Europe and his friend Ossip Gabrilovich/witsch. In 1938, he reflects on his "ill-considered" words in earlier articles and works, assuming some responsibility for Gabrilovich's "deep-seated and almost voiceless" despair.

Elissa's work with Italian immigrant musicians, including Lorenzo da Ponte, was absolutely fascinating and tied in nicely with some of the issues explored yesterday during the "Art of Association" seminar. The genres with which musicians were involved (opera/oratorio vs. band/dance music) seems to have had some impact on the success of these musicians in the U.S.

I also enjoyed a poster session by Trudi Wright (University of Colorado, Boulder) on the evolution of Pins and Needles from a late Depression production of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union to a Broadway hit.

On tap (intended, anyway) for the rest of today:

Cold War Anxieties session, with papers by Phil Gentry, Jennifer Delapp-Birkett, Keith Hatschek, and Leanne Wood, chaired by Howard Pollack.
A tour of the Canadian Museum of Civilization (SAM has this lovely tradition of an afternoon "off" to take in the sights)
Concert and Presentation of Honorary Membership to composer R. Murray Schafer
AND, last, but not least, Drew and Phil's no-host blogger reception at the Armada Lounge (careful piano music set to auto-play on website) starting at 9pm.

Checking in with 2009-10

2010-01-08T12:29:00.006-05:00

I'm probably not alone in marking my "years" by the academic calendar, rather than the Jan-Dec plan on which the rest of the world seems to run. ;-) That this is/has been the busiest year of my life is not overstating the situation. I've tested my limits, and I'm living to tell the tale.

At the end of Summer 2009, I wrote this post, with a list of everything I needed to prepare for Fall 2009 (and into Spring 2010). I think it is good idea to re-examine that list and see where I'm at for Spring 2010.

Syllabi (Spring 2010)

4.75 / 5

History Proficiency Exam (to write, not take...)

0 / 1

Book Reviews

1 / 2

Conference Papers (EEK!)

0 / 1

Program Notes

3 / 5

Pre-concert Lectures DONE!

1 / 1

Elections to coordinate/tabulate DONE!

1 / 1

Concerts to Review

1 / 9

Competitions to adjudicate

0 / 2

The list above represents the items to which I have commitments/have been accepted. Below I've included some goals for this year.

Conference abstracts to submit

0 / 3

Articles to submit

0 / 2

Book Proposal to outline

0 / 1

HMM. Very telling, indeed.

Bostonians v. WGBH/WCRB

2010-01-07T10:47:00.006-05:00

On Tuesday night, I served as a respondent for the forum on the future of Classical Music radio in Boston. Organized by the Boston Musical Intelligencer, the forum saw an audience of roughly 400 people in Old South Church in Copley Square, some of whom arrived an hour early to “get a good seat.” The main attraction was billed as a panel comprised of broadcast journalist Chris Lydon; the fiery announcer and former general manager of WCRB, Dave MacNeill; music critic emeritus for the Boston Globe, Richard Dyer; and John Voci, general manager of WGBH radio. The gavel-wielder was none other than former Massachusetts Senate president and current president of the University of Massachusetts, William Bulger.

Long before questions were posed from the audience, the room was vibrating with the anger, frustration, and sense of injustice felt by a great many Bostonians who felt their music had been “taken away” by WGBH’s latest business decisions, most notably the cancellation of the Friday afternoon broadcasts of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and the move of all classical programming to 99.5 WCRB, recently acquired by WGBH.

My question for Mr. Voci, which received encouraging applause, was in regard to a rumored 75-page document in WGBH’s possession, full of listener comments regarding the recent changes. I asked what percentage of those comments were positive, and to my surprise, Mr. Voci replied that he had not seen it. I was assigned this question by the BMInt and was originally uncomfortable asking a question about a document only rumored to exist. But now I’m glad the question was asked because it opened the door for two more: 1) if the document does exist, why HASN’T Mr. Voci, as general manager, seen it? And 2) if the document doesn’t exist, WHY NOT? As one audience member opined, there needs to be a better feedback mechanism on the WCRB and WGBH websites. Facebook pages, while a crucial and important venue for commentary, are exclusionary to a good portion of GBH/CRB listeners whose internet involvement may be limited and who don’t wish to join Facebook in order to comment. We know that people have written comments on their donation cards and I’d be willing to bet some people have even written…*gasp*…letters! “Listener-supported radio” needs to have…well, listener support. So, it does seem that the comments from said listeners would be the primary resource for assessing that level of support, much more so than the spurious Arbitron ratings.

After asking my question, I sat back and watched and listened. Unlike many of those present, I’m a fairly recent transplant to Boston. I don’t listen to the radio much as I don’t drive very often and I listen to music for a living (class prep, program notes, pre-concert lectures), which leaves very little time to tune in to the radio. But I lived in a place for ten years where Vivaldi and Massenet’s "Meditation from Thaïs" (two of Tuesday night's audience’s favorite signifiers of mediocrity in programming) were popular programming choices for the local classical music radio station. In that city, relative populations aside, it would be hard for me to imagine that 40 people would have shown up to “defend” classical music radio, much less 400. Chris Lydon did attempt to drive home the point that Boston is a “wildly interesting” place, culturally and intellectually, and that “we should demand the best from our public institutions.” And on Tuesday night, those demands were made, with varying levels of eloquence, but almost uniform sincerity. That those demands were not MET on the spot, should come as no surprise. But a gathering of 400 people is hard to ignore.

From some of the comments I’ve read at various other fora, I gather there was definitely a wide range of expectations for the evening. Laments that the hour and a half event “solved nothing” seem to me to have missed the greater point. Some Bostonians, armed with the heritage of the Boston Tea Party, expected too much (from Mr. Voci, in particular). While I am not interested in defending the actions of WGBH, Mr. Voci behaved exactly in the manner I expected. He is but one person in an organization—he responded to questions with businesslike diplomacy, dutifully took notes, and made no promises. What many of these commenters fail to see is that the evening was not really meant to be about Mr. Voci or any of the other panelists. Nor was it about the reviewers from the Intelligencer who served as respondents. It was in fact about the four hundred people who filled the seats of that church.

There is great cause for concern here because the issues at hand are indicative of a growing trend in dismissing classical music from the cultural scene. Unlike painting, sculpture and many of the visual arts, music is not static art. Classical music radio is a museum of ever-changing and completely temporal exhibits…it should never be satisfied with a limited permanent collection. Unlike the Louvre, which has the luxury of having people come to it in order to see the Mona Lisa, classical music radio must bring its museum to the people. As an FM broadcaster, WGBH has signed on to that mode of transport. Telling people to listen in HD, or to use the internet, or to buy new stereo equipment, is tantamount to blocking off the ramps and stairways to the museum and asking folks to rappel through the skylights. If WGBH had started an internet radio station in addition to current offerings, this would be a completely different situation. But the fact of the matter is that people feel robbed. Bruce Mittman, president of Mittcom, and member of WGBH Coporate Executive Council, used the word “offload” in referring to moving the classical music programming to 99.5, going on to say that the move would “make the station [WGBH] more pure.” (1) If purity is what we are after in the way we establish cultural and artistic legacies, then the situation is more dire than I imagine.

What Tuesday night’s forum DID accomplish, is that WGBH has been put on notice. People ARE listening and watching. I’m an optimist so I’d like to believe that there will be more changes to come that will put this situation back on track, and I’m even willing to wait a bit. I don’t envy WGBH one bit. Arbitrating aesthetics is awfully difficult. There are a great many people whose idea of good classical music IS Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, Meditation from Thais, etc and they shouldn’t be excluded from this conversation either. I’m sure many who sat in the church would be aghast at my personal idea of “good” classical music (which is why the internet is my listening source of choice). But what WGBH must realize is that IS the task before them. It isn’t just about business decisions…art never is. As a business, WGBH made a decision. How much that decision will compromise the organization’s role as a guardian of culture will be measured in the coming months.

(1) Greater Boston, September 21, 2009

READ/HEAR/SEE MORE (Links included below represent a variety of opinions and do not necessarily reflect those of this blogger :-)):

New Hat!

2009-11-03T18:59:00.003-05:00

I've now joined the reviewing "staff" at the Boston Musical Intelligencer. I've long admired their goal "to list every classical music concert in greater Boston." They also "intend to review as many as possible, especially those deemed most important and unjustly neglected by our editors."

I'm not sure what constitutes an "important" classical music concert, but neglected ones are not hard to find. Music criticism is fast becoming a lost art, with budget cuts at major papers. As musicologists, this should be cause for great concern because it is the critics who really end up being the chroniclers of concert life (if such a thing exists). Slonimsky's Lexicon of Musical Invective is a humorous read and supplement to any music history course, but it also provides some invaluable snapshots of reception history, context, and occasionally the music itself (!) I am not advocating invective as a norm, of course (in fact I hope the occasion that warrants it is rare), but when it comes to art and music, in particular, it cannot be separated from the aesthetic viewpoint (errant or otherwise). As a musicologist, it is easy enough to be critical of music on a recording, or by a composer long since dead. But I'd like to encourage my colleagues to get out there---put the book down, go to a concert---keep this tradition alive. Blog about the concerts you go to. Start your version of the Boston Musical Intelligencer in your own city. And really, it all comes down to basic economics ( a course in which I received the worst grade of my college career, incidentally)--supply and DEMAND. It doesn't have to be the BSO, or the LA or NY Phil. I bet you've got a community chorus in your area that worked long and hard on some amazing repertoire and could really use some constructive feedback. It is the subtext of many a choral song: anyone out there? Are you listening?

And speaking of choruses, a shameless plug for my own: Spectrum Singers. 30th Anniversary. 30 years, yes...in Boston. We've got an amazing concert coming up on November 21st. I'd really like for you to be there. Bach Magnificat, Schutz's Deutsches Magnificat, the third and sixth cantatas of Bach's Christmas Oratorio with orchestra members from Emmanuel Music. I've got discounted tickets. Leave a comment and I'll find you!

Fall is a-comin

2009-09-02T07:48:00.003-05:00

Five classes. Three institutions.

Accountability as summer ends

2009-08-19T05:20:00.006-05:00

Summer is effectively over. The meetings have begun. I'm constructing syllabi. I capped off my summer with a week-long research trip to Pittsburgh (or did I begin my fall?---not sure). At any rate, based on yet another good idea from Phil, I figured blogging my musicological to-do-list might be a good idea for accountability. I don't intend on making updates a regular feature, but this will help me focus on what I need to achieve this year. It is going to be a roller-coaster of a ride this fall term (five classes spread over three institutions), so anything that helps keep me on track is a boon.

Lets Get Started!

Syllabi (Fall '09 only)DONE!

5 / 5

Textbook orders placedDONE!

3 / 3

Book Reviews

0 / 2

Conference Papers

0 / 1

Program Notes

0 / 5

Pre-concert LecturesDONE!

1 / 1

Elections to coordinate/tabulate

0 / 1

The list above represents the items to which I have commitments/have been accepted. Below I've included some goals for this year.

Conference abstracts to submit

0 / 3

Articles to submit

0 / 2

Book Proposal to outline

0 / 1

So, there's nothing left to do except get to it! I'll take this opportunity to wish everyone else happy term-preparation!

NEXT POST: Jenny Lind sighting (in PA!) Rebecca's Jenny Lind Tour Development Post

Monday Inbox

2009-08-17T08:24:00.001-05:00

Musical Icons

2009-07-06T08:19:00.005-05:00

Yes, I'm going to do it, so let's just get it out of the way, shall we?

I apologize for silence on this blog.

Ok, there. Not so bad. (This is all in reference to the rule that you aren't supposed to apologize for lack of blogging). I'd like to tell you all that it was a Cagean experiment in blogging, but that would be untrue. What is a more likely culprit is much needed downtime from academia. And yes, I include my blogging (and reading of other blogs) in that.

I've been busy reading the messages and posts re: MJ's death, career, wackiness, rage, etc. and I've felt particularly grateful NOT to be famous. I find it sad that death should be the catalyst for a discussion of MJ's music on the blogosphere, Twitter, and the AMS-L. I do think, however, that death seems to give music new life. We listen to it with new ears (to borrow from Proust)...ears that resonate with nostalgia, yet filter out the noise of a very public life. I can't say a whole lot about MJ's music, except that I'm conscious now of how big a part it played in the scenery of my life. There have been several times in the last week or so when I've said, "THAT's Michael Jackson??" in response to hearing a song. I like this sense of uncovering a secret. I'm sorry that I paid his music little mind when he was alive, but perhaps that is a symptom of being trained in listening to the music of DWG (that's "Dead White Guys" for those of you following along at home). Of course, being that I specialize in 20th-21st century music, that claim doesn't really work.

I want to write about icons, actually. It is a word that is tossed around, particularly in regard to Michael Jackson, and I feel it is appropriate. If I was not struck by his music, I was very much taken by his iconic presence. On Friday morning, the day after Michael Jackson passed, I had a rather surreal experience while walking through Boston's South Station. In an almost uniform manner, almost every single person in the station was reading the Metro, which featured a large headline that said something like, "The King of Pop is Dead." I don't recall the actual headline, but I was struck by how this seemed to be a fiction, even though I knew it to be true. It was like walking through an episode of the Twilight Zone, where in a parallel world, Michael Jackson had died, and all the bizarre inhabitants of the world moved their unblinking eyes in tandem across the pages of the Boston Metro, and coordinated the turning of those pages.

Madeleine L'Engle, in a wonderful (though quirky) book entitled Penguins and Golden Calves: Icons and Idols, writes this about icons:

Our need for icons begins in early childhood when we hold on to the favourite little piece of blanket, or the beloved stuffed animal. The blanket is not a blanket, nor is the animal a mere animal; they are icons of all-rightness in a world that early shows itself to be not all right. They are icons of tender love in a society that daily becomes more brutal and violent.

Perhaps L'Engle's description does not exactly jive with our images of "Wacko Jacko," but like the blanket or the stuffed animal, MJ the icon was the "all-rightness", whereas MJ the person was definitely "not all right." Here was an icon who asked us to start with the man in the mirror...the icon could ask, the man could not.

To continue with L'Engle: "An icon is something I can look through and get a wider glimpse of God and God's demands on us..."

In watching the grief of thousands over MJ's death, I believe that this was probably very true for some of his most devoted fans. But the real tragedy of the human icon is that they are indeed looked through--basically a means to an end. For the blanket, it doesn't mean too much, but we might take a moment to examine the cost of using musicians in this way.

---

If you haven't already, I encourage you to take a look at the following posts regarding Michael Jackson:
The Musicological Michael Jackson (Musicology/Matters)
Rage in his Feet (2'23 and cross-posted at Musicology/Matters)
I Want You Back: A Musiceulogical Inquiry (Musicology/Matters)
Michael Jackson (Ryan at amusicology)
and an ongoing compendium here (once again, brought to you by the great bloggers at M/M).

Living Composer Final Project

2009-05-06T05:17:00.003-05:00

(Insert obligatory apology for absence from blogging here).

Another semester is almost finished. The final exam in "Music of the Twentieth Century" is tomorrow. Alex Ross' fantastic text (reviewed by me here) helped guide my students through the constant interplay between music and historical events of the 20th-century. It struck me, however, that this was also an opportunity to get them to engage with music of the now. To this end, I assigned a term paper on a living (and in most cases, active) composer (or, in some cases, recently deceased). I gave them a list from which to choose (see below), and they had no other information about the composers on that list except for their birth dates and nationalities. The list provides a fairly wide sampling of styles. I gave them some time to do some "preliminary research" (aka Google) in order to pick a composer. Unfortunately, I did not provide a survey regarding their criteria or process, but all the same, the results were interesting. I've boldfaced the names of the composers who were picked by students (21 in all).

H. Leslie Adams (b. 1932, USA)
Thomas Adès (b. 1971, Great Britain)
Laurie Anderson (b. 1947, USA)
Harrison Birtwistle (b. 1934, Great Britain)
Henry Brant (b. 1913, d. April 26, 2008, USA)
Leo Brouwer (b. 1939, Cuba)
David Cope (b. 1941, USA)
George Crumb (b.1929, USA)
Peter Maxwell Davies (b. 1934, Great Britain)
David Del Tredici (b. 1937, USA)
Pascal Dupasin (b. 1955, France)
Tan Dun (b. 1957, China)
Brian Ferneyhough (b. 1943, Great Britain)
Lukas Foss (b. 1922, d. February 1, 2009, USA)
Kyle Gann (b. 1955, USA)
Osvaldo Golijov (b. 1961, Argentina)
Sofia Gubaidalina (b. 1931, Russian)
John Harbison (b. 1938, USA)
Stephen Hartke (b. 1952, USA)
Aaron Jay Kernis (b. 1960, USA)
Helmut Lachenmann (b. 1935, Germany)
Paul Lansky (b. 1944, USA)
Tania León (b. 1943, Cuba)
Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958, Finland)
James MacMillan (b. 1959, Scotland)
Meredith Monk (b. 1942, USA)
Tristan Murail (b. 1947, France)
Max Neuhaus (b.1939, 3 February 2009, USA)
Per Nørgård (b. 1932, Denmark)
Pauline Oliveros (b. 1932, USA)
Bernard Rands (b. 1934, Great Britain)
Wolfgang Rihm (b. 1952, Germany)
Christopher Rouse (b. 1949, USA)
Frederic Rzewski (b. 1938, USA)
Kaija Saariaho (b. 1952, Finland)
Esa-Pekka Salonen (b. 1958, Finland)
Joseph Schwantner (b. 1943, USA)
Peter Sculthorpe (b. 1929, Australia)
R. Murray Shafer (b. 1933, Canada)
Steven Stucky (b. 1949, USA)
Augusta Read Thomas (b.1964, USA)
Yehudi Wyner (b. 1929, USA)
Chen Yi (b. 1953, China)
John Zorn (b. 1953, USA)

Among other components of the project, I encouraged the students to try and contact their subjects for interviews (phone or e-mail). I was discouraged by the response of some composers (who shall remain nameless). Perhaps an undergraduate term paper isn't an illustrious honor, but it is a chance to engage with the future before becoming the past. I'm well aware that some of these students may have been ill-prepared (e.g. "Hi. I'm writing a paper on you. Tell me about yourself."), but what message does it send to be unwilling to answer a few questions? Art can no longer afford to be so aloof, I think. I don't believe in changing compositional styles to fit trends, but I do believe in engaging with the "outside world" in some meaningful way. Some composers may not care if we listen, but I would hope they'd care enough about their own music to talk about it when asked.

All the same, I think it was a valuable project. For many students, the whole idea of modern composition was a revelation. "Symphonies" and "operas" are the stuff of Mozart. For them, not only are the white guys dead, but so is the entire tradition itself. While I don't think any of them left the class embracing Ferneyhough or Boulez's music, I do think some of them have become more aware of an eternal soundscape, serving as both scenery and props in what they know to be "the present." My hope is that engaging with this music now will make it less "dusty" in fifty, seventy, or a hundred years and that we can finally view composition as a living tradition, be it Du Fay, Bach, Haydn or Golijov.

Shameless Plug: Boston's Spectrum Singers Nov. 22nd!

2008-11-17T09:50:00.005-05:00

Tired of the same old holiday concert? Well, this year, come hear Spectrum Singers' Christmas Prelude Celebrating St. Cecilia's Day, this Saturday, November 22nd at 8pm at First Church Congregational in Cambridge. Better yet, come at 7pm to hear an engaging pre-concert lecture by acclaimed musicologist Steven Ledbetter. The concert will feature:

Benjamin Britten's Hymn to St. Cecilia
Norman Dello Joio's To Saint Cecilia (performed in memory of the composer)
Daniel Pinkham's A Song for St. Cecilia's Day
Herbert Howells' Hymn for St. Cecilia
as well as works by Ireland, Houkom, and Mathias.

Come celebrate music's patron saint and enjoy this unique holiday experience. Tickets: $15/$35/$45. I have discounted tickets available. If you are interested, leave your name and some form of contactable info (e-mail/link) in the comments.

Playlist for Tuesday, 11/18/08

2008-11-16T17:18:00.003-05:00

I find, as I get closer to the end of my course, that my lectures are resembling Time-Life Audio Collection infomercials. While that disturbs me at some level, it does make for fun listening. I'm not sure I could come up with an infomercial to encapsulate the following playlist, but feel free to try, if you like.

Fascinating Rhythm (Gershwin)--- Ella Fitzgerald
Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man (Kern)--- Helen Morgan
You Send Me--Sam Cooke
Under the Boardwalk--- The Drifters
Hound Dog--- Elvis Presley
In the Ghetto--- Elvis Presley
Can't Help Falling In Love--- Elvis Presley
It Wasn't God Who Made Honky-Tonk Angels--- Kitty Wells
It's Mighty Dark To Travel--- Bill Monroe
Talk About Jesus (Dorsey) --- Marion Williams
Precious Lord (Dorsey)--- B.B. King
Take My Hand, Precious Lord (Dorsey)---Mahalia Jackson
Mercedes Benz--- Janis Joplin
Summertime (Gershwin)--- Janis Joplin
Summertime (Gershwin)--- Willie Nelson

AMS/SMT 2008: Nashville, TN

2008-11-14T15:43:00.004-05:00

Alright, I guess it is my turn for not-so-much-live blogging from AMS. Now that I've made my public service announcement, recovered from two hours on the tarmac at Washington-Dulles, and have caught up on some sleep, I can offer a few thoughts and highlights.

Like Drew, I got there early (Wednesday), but alas, unlike Drew, did not meet with Rich Crawford. I ventured out to the streets of Nashville for dinner, alone and in conference attire, then turned right back around and ate at the hotel. Having been raised in Los Angeles, I've learned to trust my instincts. Something about being alone, sans cowboy boots and jeans, made me feel rather conspicuous. I will give the hotel restaurant props for their excellent hospitality.

Thursday morning I waited not-so-patiently for the registration desk to open so that I could obtain my name tag and bag, absolute necessities to complete my conference ensemble. I spoke with Al Hipkins who was really on top of things (enough so to suggest that we probably didn't need room for 100 people for the Haydn Society Meeting and I should let him know...). Then after text messaging my roommate (who was in Memphis enjoying the Civil Rights Museum), I plopped myself down in a chair at Starbucks and tried to look busy. I read through my program and programmed all the sessions I wanted to/had-the-best-of-intentions to attend into my PDA/superphone, and ordered another latte.

Thursday Afternoon
I ran into W. Dean Sutcfliffe and asked if he would announce (at the Haydn Session) that the time and place for the Haydn Society meeting were incorrect in the program. I went to the Haydn session at 2, made myself useful by helping pass out handouts (I had to do something secretarial), and settled in. I enjoyed all the papers, especially Elaine Sisman's. I mused upon how many opportunities one has to look at anatomical drawings in a musicology session (Sarah Day O'Connell's paper) and thoroughly enjoyed Peter Hoyt's offerings of English prints of clerics with windmills on their heads (yes, still in the Haydn session). I did wish to clone myself so that I could have been in the Messiaen session at the same time.

I joyfully greeted my roommate (safely arrived from Memphis) and we headed to the opening reception which resembled a swap meet with drinks. I scored a drink ticket from my wonderful chair, and proceeded to chat with my grad school cohorts. It was a strange feeling as four of us are now "Drs." and we all have some sort of employment.

Friday morning I missed the Convent Music session (sorry!) to go hear Michael Cuthbert and Giovanni Zanovello both give extraordinary papers at the "Discovering Repertories of Italian Sacred Music." My presence at a Med/Ren session did earn me the anticipated remark about my presence at a Med/Ren session, but I didn't mind this time. I did feel it was unfair to have Giovanni's paper on musical repertories of the Santissima Annunziata convent at the same time as the other "convent" session, but decided that unlike me, most people probably do not attend those sessions because of a strange fascination with nuns.

I hopped over to the Instrumental Eccentricities session to see my former grad school colleague Ed Johnson give a very fine paper on "The Death and Second Life of the Harpsichord." In addition, Ed also gets the award for best conference handout (this needs to be added to the awards handed out at the business meeting).

Things I missed with a high degree of guilt and/or dismay:

Drew's paper (at least I missed it for another American music topic, but still...)

Samantha Bassler's presentation (Scholars with Disabilities)

More of a chance to chat with Elissa

"From Broadway to the Concert Stage" session

"Sacred or Profane? Popular Music and Religion in the United States" session

The recognition of Ryan's Howard Mayer Brown Fellowship (GO RYAN!)---I did go to the business meeting but left right after all the AMS-50 presentations. I'm still digesting the triumphal fanfare that opened the meeting.

"Political Polarities in the '30s" session (met the fate of many a Sunday session for me)

Not seeing the 10-15 people to whom I said, "Let's catch up in Nashville!" HAH! Right.

Other Highlights:

Coffee with Steve Fisher

A successful Haydn Society of North America business meeting

Late evenings at the bar with friends and colleagues

People-watching in the lobby/bar

A chance to celebrate Bill Prizer's birthday and Festschrift!!

An extravagant and glorious birthday dinner with my undergrad mentor and his wife, and my dear friend/roomie

A self-guided tour of Ryman Auditorium (the REAL Grand Ol' Opry)

Fisk Jubilee Singers concert (fantastic!)

The Norton reception and chatting with Steve Hoge

I will save my letter to United Airlines regarding my Washington-Dulles experience for another post.

Some things are too important...

2008-11-13T22:16:00.003-05:00

As most of you know (those of you who read my blog regularly, anyway) I occasionally write about things other than music or musicology. I wanted to write an AMS wrap-up post. I wanted to bask in Obama's victory. But instead, I think I need to post this. I hope you will watch it if you haven't seen it already.

Adventures in Teaching: Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing

2008-10-24T05:43:00.004-05:00

I'm always reading about creative pedagogy and drooling over the idealized students to whom these techniques must apply. Yes, of course I'd love to bring in some clay (engaging other senses!) and have the group (group work!) create a life-size replica of their favorite (ownership of ideas!) American composer (visualization of subject matter!). Ok, so I exaggerate--just a little.

But let me tell you that I love my students this semester. I'm not sure they'd be up for "Let's Pretend-to-be-Rodin" but here's what they DID do this past week:

We were discussing the African-American spiritual, and on a whim, I decided I was going to get them to sing...in four-part harmony, no less. Keep in mind, that this is a class of non-majors, most of whom have little to no music background. I wasn't about to take no for an answer. I chose "Go Down Moses" (which their text discusses), because it gave me a chance to do something responsorial (where I would sing, and then they could come in on "Let My People Go.")* So I asked the women, "Who sings soprano? Alto?" As you might expect, they were fairly reticent to claim any voice part, so I divided them up myself (which was easy, since the "soprano" part is in the same range as the alto). The men were likewise reluctant, but it turns out that my class is mostly tenors (where is Paul Robeson when you need him??).

So I played each part separately and had each group sing. What surprised me was the gusto applied by the gentlemen!! It wasn't necessarily completely in tune, but it was...intense! The women were pretty timid, but I had a few voices in there who were unafraid. So, when it came time to put it all together, there was a lovely and sincere quality to their singing. I feel really strongly that they get in touch with this more vernacular music in a visceral way and singing was the best way to that. There was nervous laughter, of course, but I think they enjoyed it (the evaluations will tell, of course).

Of course, my little experiment put us slightly behind in the schedule (sorry, Sousa, you are getting short-changed), but I think it was worth it. For a few of them, it may be the first time they've heard themselves in harmony with other voices. I remember the first time I heard my own voice blend with a chorus of others, and it changed my life. Did singing "Go Down Moses" change their lives? No, probably not. But I hope it gave them some sense, even on a subconscious level, that they can sing. Not all of them could/should charge money for it, but they have the right to make their own music.

----

*While I don't think it should ever be necessary to defend singing a sacred song as a demonstration of a musical tradition, I can think of some places I've taught where I could not have done this without some kind of backlash.

On awards, books and the merits of You Tube

2008-09-26T13:56:00.003-05:00

First off, I would like to add my congratulations to Alex Ross, for his well-deserved 2008 MacArthur Fellowship. I'm really leaning toward using his book for my non-music majors in next semester's course, Music of the Twentieth Century. If anyone has any other suggestions appropriate for the non-major, I'll be happy to consider them. I find that a lot of the standard textbooks are unsuitable as they get bogged down in musical details that will be meaningless to those without musical background, OR they make blatant (and erroneous) stylistic generalizations about the music of the 20th century. Nope, I'm not naming names.

Earlier this year, Ryan posted about the merits of YouTube as a research/teaching tool, and this resulted in a fascinating discussion. While I took sort of a hard line against the citation of YouTube clips as authoritative sources (since they can be heavily edited), I have found myself calling upon YouTube (in class) a whole lot this semester. We read a chapter in Stephen Marini's Sacred Song in America about the Sacred Harp tradition. Marini is wonderfully descriptive in his writing about the modern tradition, but I have a feeling this particular YouTube clip really helped my students "get it." Somehow, a homemade video of this Sacred Harp convention (they are singing from the Missouri Harmony) seemed appropriate...maybe even more than nuanced documentary footage.

On Journeys and Cacophony

2008-09-05T07:30:00.003-05:00

Well, it has begun. Once again we mark our year by due dates, concerts and conferences. I'm in a new place, both literally and figuratively. I'm teaching at a new institution and I'm teaching "Music in the United States" for the first time. My students are smart and ready to go. We packed our suitcases full of "fundamentals" this week, and I assured them we'd be pulling them out again at appropriate places in the journey. We'll make an interesting bunch. I have one student who clearly knows more about the British Invasion than I ever will. Another is a Bob Dylan fan who sees Dylan as a distinctively "American" voice. One student wants to learn about sacred music and jazz. I played a clip of Run DMC and I think they were relatively insulted when I suggested they might not know Run DMC (HEY...I teach students who haven't seen E.T!!).

So, we loaded the bus and determined our windy path through Music in the United States. Well, actually, I guess I'm driving the bus, but I think I'll have a whole lot of back seat drivers. I'm looking forward to it. :-)

--------------

On an additional note, I teach in a very new music building. The classes all have internet/computer access, reasonably good pianos, etc. One thing everyone complains about is the lack of soundproofing (guess someone forgot that detail). However, as I sat in my office yesterday, hearing a trumpet on one side, a harp on the other, and a vocalist across the hall...I thought, yes. THIS is what a music department sounds like. I welcomed the cacophony. I have been at other institutions that have been all too silent.

Oh, and the photograph? Just a shot I took last weekend at a local pond. A little reminder that summer will end...soon.

My two cents...eh, in this market, maybe only one.

2008-08-16T14:16:00.002-05:00

I will be the first to admit that there are topics discussed on the AMS-List that interest me less than they probably should. Some topics stimulate such voluminous discussion that I feel more overwhelmed than inspired. But the joy of email is that it can be deleted with one click of a mouse. Gone. Forever.

Occasionally, however, when I can invest the time, I do like the check in with the list, which is why it is so disappointing when I see the list used as a forum for self-promotion and ad hominem attacks. And by self-promotion, I do NOT mean calling our attention to your new book on a musicological subject.

I rarely participate in the discussions because I don't care to get into debates that amount to "my Ph.D. is bigger than your Ph.D." (not a direct quote, thank goodness). Yes, yes...I know...part of it is just academia. But I don't have to like it. If, at the end of the day I don't gain notoriety and acceptance from the entire musicological community, but I still have a little bit of healthy idealism intact, I'd say I've stayed true to myself, my students, and my profession.

Hello, again...Hello.

2008-08-06T10:31:00.004-05:00

Well, I've been on quite a vacation, but believe me, the only vacation I have had has been in the virtual realm. My friends with whom I communicate via e-mail must think I've gone AWOL. I won't make any promises about the frequency of my posting, but let's just say I'm hoping to be more present, at least in my reading of wonderful musicological blogs. I devoted some time today to "catching up" with the blogging community, and discovered I missed this wonderful post by Phil Ford over at Dial M. I have watched my own writing develop, and can gladly say that I no longer feel it necessary to include the word "polemic" in every single piece of academic writing I produce. I'd like to think I use it with more discretion now. Writing, much like teaching, can always be better. Part of the "fun" is the revision process (although it is rarely fun in the moment) because you catch those entire paragraphs that probably made sense to your sleep-deprived brain at the time, but now read like a sermon in Swahili. Thank goodness for peer-reviewers and editors.

Before I tell you what has kept me from engaging with the blogosphere this summer, I have two bits of inconsequential but fun news to share.

First, I received my wonderful t-shirt from Soho The Dog. I'm wearing it proudly today as I'll be meeting with a musicologist colleague later. I prefer to think of it as "edgy coolness" rather than nerdiness.

And, this came in yesterday's mail. One down, one to go!

So what has Rebecca been up to? For the first summer in a long time, I have not left the state of my residence (and now that I live in Massachusetts, we will not be counting day trips to New Hampshire or Rhode Island). I did, however, receive a flurry of house guests all in the span of three weeks: friends, parents, and in-laws. I took a course in Marketing for Performing Arts Organizations. I've been organizing conferences, sitting on boards, doing some preliminary house-hunting, and trying to enjoy the summer offerings of Massachusetts.

Musicologically speaking, I'm working on several projects. One involves the Pittsburgh Symphony, but that is on hold until my dear friends move to Pittsburgh in a few weeks. M has just accepted a professorship at U Pitt (in physics), and he and his wife have bought a house...with plenty of room for guests. So, you see my strategy---free accommodations should never be rejected.

Secondly, it appears I'll be teaching a class entitled "Music in the United States" this fall. So, I'm going through the gratifying/frustrating process of constructing a syllabus. It is a general course for non-majors, and cross-registered with American Studies. I'll be using Richard Crawford's America's Musical Life, which I think will suit my class quite well. Of course I'm struggling with distribution and how much time to spend on the potpourri of musical styles I'll need to cover. I'm considering some overarching themes ( "Music and Religion," "Music and War," for example) to guide the course structure, rather than a strict chronological approach. I'd love to be able to talk about William Billings and William Schuman (New England Triptych) in the same class. Why does this feel so risky to me? (Not a rhetorical question---I'd like to hear your thoughts!)

It is my hope that my connections between ye olde American musicke and modernity will lend some kind of resonance to the subject matter. I don't think these students are taking this particular course so that they can recite some sort of canonized development of music in the United States. The timeline aspect is important, yes, but I think it is secondary to understanding the major interactions between society, culture, politics and music. Isn't that why I'm a musicologist in the first place? So, I'm going to continue to pull from the past and pull from the present, and hopefully the class will come to appreciate music history as part of a greater work in progress.

Vacation Shots only a Musicologist Will Appreciate

2008-07-23T08:33:00.006-05:00

When visiting the Grand Canyon two years ago, I was surprised to come upon this statue:
Not a great photo, I know. For those of you who may not be able to recognize "The Swedish Nightingale," that is Jenny Lind, the Swedish opera singer who toured the United States with PT Barnum in the 19th century. Now, Jenny gets her due--there is a Jenny Lind, California (an unincorporated community in Calaveras County); she is honored during a Barnum festival in Bridgeport, Connecticut, etc. But I wasn't expecting her to turn up at the Grand Canyon (her tour was on the East Coast), nor was I expecting to see this:
This past weekend, on our way back down to Boston from Cape Cod, we made an obligatory stop to see a lighthouse (The Highland Light in Truro, MA). Off in the distance, I see this mini-turret in the shrubbery. That is the Jenny Lind Tower. Well, of course, it is! Originally from the Fitchburg Train Depot, it was moved to this bizarre location in 1927. Legend has it that Jenny Lind sang on top of the tower to calm the angry crowd unable to get in to see her actual concert. Now immortalized in the fields next to a national lighthouse, golf course, and air force base, the tower is supposedly off-limits (due to the air force base). However, according to this site one can hike to the tower without getting shot (on my to-do list for our next visit).

I'm thinking a Jenny Lind Tour might be in order...any takers?

I'm still here...

2008-06-27T09:52:00.004-05:00

Apropos of nothing:
This definitely falls under the "Miscellaneous" category. This is our annual visitor. This year he/she brought a friend and the two of them have been hanging out on our grape arbor and entertaining this guy (through the window):

I'm sorry I've been an absent blogger. I've been busy organizing conferences, serving on boards, contemplating summer hail, and very occasionally, doing research! I'd like to switch these priorities around (especially the summer hail part), but I fear the first two are only going to take up more time in the coming year. But we shall see.

But, in the meantime, while I plan to remedy my absence from the blogosphere, I offer some musicologically miscellaneous humor. You have to love the connections only Amazon can make between these two works:

"We've noticed that customers who have purchased or rated A History of Music in Western Culture by Mark Evan Bonds...have also purchased Mel Bay presents All-American Concertina Album by Alan Lochhead. For this reason, you might like to know that Mel Bay presents All-American Concertina Album is now available. You can order yours for just $9.95 by following the link below."

I suddenly find myself wanting to transcribe the Bonds anthology for concertina. A good summer project, to be sure.

NOW PLAYING: Veljo Tormis, North Russian Bylina (Estonian National Male Choir, Olev Oja)

Summer Plans for MMM!

2008-05-20T05:45:00.003-05:00

Well, just as the guys over at Dial M are taking a vacation, I'm thinking it is high time I got back to blogging! Fortunately, Ralph Locke and Brent Reidy are filling the vacancy at Dial M.

Upon my graduation from college, a wise mentor of mine counseled me to "listen to as much music as possible." This has stayed with me over the past decade, but I have failed to heed it. So, this summer, I plan to rectify that. I'd love to say I could do a new piece every day, but that may not be realistic (we musicologists have to read too and I find that I cannot do both at the same time). Real listening is a time investment for me. So, I'm going to aim for at least twice a week (let's hope this goes better than my exercise goals...).

In the meantime, remember this? For those of you who have been dying to know the answers, here they are:

1. O Lord, My God, I take refuge in you

"O Sing unto the Lord" by Phyllis E. Zimmerman. Ok, so it was a loooooooooong shot. A really loooooooooooooooooooong shot.

2. Mit Staunen sieht das Wunderwerk HINT: 18th-c

I was surprised this one had no takers! Haydn, Die Schöpfung (No. 4 for soprano solo and chorus)

3. De profundis clamavi ad te...(hint: it is from the 20th-c, and relevant to my dissertation work)

Like I said, the sacred music texts were a little unfair. But, this would be from Bernstein's Mass.

~~4. Da die Hirten ihre Herde~~

Mark got this one! Schoenberg's Friede auf Erden, Op. 13

5. We met in the quiet of the meadow

Another obscurity. A song called "The Other Side of the Wood" by a former lawyer-turned folk singer-now Unitarian minister named Fred Small.

6. My life goes on in endless song HINT: new age/Celtic

Enya, "How Can I Keep From Singing?" I was hoping someone would recognize the words of the hymn.

~~7. Adonai, Adonai... Lo gavah libi~~

I gave Scott half-credit for this one since he guessed Bernstein's Kaddish Symphony. It was from the third mvt of Chichester Psalms.

~~8. Funny day, looking for laughter and finding it there~~

Again, this one went to Mark: Joni Mitchell's "I Don't Where I Stand" from the Clouds album.

~~9. Give me one reason to stay here and I'll turn right back around.~~

My friend "the Unhipster" identified Tracy Chapman's "Gimme one Reason"
~~10. I have spent nights with matches and knives~~

This one went to Svenn: Indigo Girls, "Blood and Fire"

~~11. Can you hear the drums...~~ HINT: the title of the song is the next word.

I thought this one would be one of the first to go, but no dice. Dan B. finally got it: ABBA, "Fernando."

12. An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day HINT: country classic!

Another surprise, although I suppose an old cowboy riding on a dark and windy day isn't exactly the most unique musical experience. Johnny Cash, "Ghost Riders in the Sky"

~~13. Half the people are stoned~~
Phil, my brother in Bernstein, got this one...the famous lines written by Paul Simon and given to Lenny which he used in Mass.
14. Empty spaces, what are we living for HINT: classic rock

Queen, "The Show Must Go On"

15. No more carefree laughter HINT: same performer(s) as another already guessed item on this list

ABBA, "Knowing Me, Knowing You"

16. I cannot ask you when exactly you plan to leave (you won't know the performer, but if you get the composer, extra bonus points!!)

Really tough one but not as obscure as No. 1. Stephen Paulus, Songs of Love and Longing "From This World"

~~17. Hello, darkness, my old friend~~

Unhipster knew this one: Simon and Garfunkel, "The Sound of Silence"

18. The sky may be starless... HINT: jazz standard, popular artist

Diana Krall, "Love Letters"

~~19. Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together~~

Again, the Unhipster: Simon and Garfunkel, "America"

20. Won't you please let me go HINT: assoc. with Little Miss Sunshine

New Order, "Age of Consent." I must apologize. I think the song was used with the movie Marie Antoinette, NOT Little Miss Sunshine.

~~21. I've an unrest inside me~~ HINT: showtune

Dan B. should get the top prize for correctly guessing Blitzstein's "I Wish it So," sung by Dawn Upshaw on the album of the same name.

22. Oh, play me some... HINT: classic 80s country

Alright. So I'm the only one who listens to Alabama? ("Mountain Music")

23. Goodnight my angel HINT: leave these questions for another day...

Billy Joel, "Lullaby" aka "Goodnight My Angel"

~~24. Barbare! Non, sans toi je ne puis vivre~~ HINT: opera "reformer"

This one went to Deetie: Gluck's Alceste. If my students read this blog, which they do not (at least to my knowledge), they would have guessed that one...I hope.

~~25. Where have all the good men gone~~ (it is for the gym, OK?)

Svenn came through with Bonnie Tyler's "I Need a Hero"

THANKS FOR PLAYING!

Walk for Music!

2008-05-18T06:15:00.003-05:00

Today I will be participating in Boston's Fifth Annual Walk for Music

This is a community-oriented event (brief 2 mile walk around the Fen) to emphasize the importance of music in education and cultural development. I'm hoping to meet a lot of fellow choristers and hear a lot of great music!

Boston Area Musicological/Music Events

2008-05-08T07:56:00.003-05:00

I will be posting various events/concerts happening in the Boston area from time to time. This weekend:

1. Harvard-Lyrica Dialogues #4
The Lyrica Society for Word-Music Relations -- www.lyricasociety.org -- is
pleased to announce the fourth and final of its annual Harvard-Lyrica
Dialogues, scheduled from 4-6 PM, 9 May 2008 at Lehman Hall, Dudley House, 2nd
Floor, in Harvard Yard.

This season's Dialogues are themed "Music and Memory -- Music as Memory", and
the final Dialogue, "Revolution and its Discontents", will be an historical and
sociological round-table discussion of Francis Poulenc's opera "The Dialogues of
the Carmelites", set to the play by Georges Bernanos, in turn based upon based
on the novella "The Last on the Scaffold", by Gertrud von le Fort. Von le
Fort's story, a study in crises of conscience, recounts the massacre of the
nuns of the Carmelite convent in Compiègne during the French Revolution, and
the panel will deliberate Beranos's and Poulenc's masterful incarnations.

The event may be found online at:

www.lyricasociety.org/carmelites.pdf

Panelists will include Jeffrey Mehlman of Boston University, Mark DeVoto,
Emeritus, Tufts University, Jann Pasler, University of California, San Diego,
and Paul-André Bempéchat, Harvard University.

Admission is free, and all are welcome.

2. Ruddigore at MIT
Tonight, Tomorrow night and Sunday afternoon:
http://web.mit.edu/gsp/www/Archive/2008spring_ruddigore/index.html

3. Spectrum Singers: Shakespeare in Song: Saturday, May 17th 8pm
Emmanuel Church (15 Newbury St., Back Bay)
I've got discounted tickets! Leave a comment with contact info (blog with email enabled or e-mail address if you are comfortable with that).
http://www.spectrumsingers.org/index.htm

Two Memes in Less than 24 Hours...

2008-05-04T05:43:00.011-05:00

means, what? Hey, I'm done grading my papers!

This one comes from Phil Jr., but then I was further inspired by Scott.

Step 1: I Put my MP3 player or whatever on random.
Step 2: I Post the first line from the first 25 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: YOU Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from.
Step 4: I Strike through when someone gets them right.

And because most of my readership is academic, I'm including foreign language numbers (especially if they are well-known works). I skipped the numerous selections that began "Kyrie eleison..." or "Sanctus, Sanctus"

I'll post the answers after a week or so.

1. O Lord, My God, I take refuge in you
2. Mit Staunen sieht das Wunderwerk HINT: 18th-c
3. De profundis clamavi ad te...(hint: it is from the 20th-c, and relevant to my dissertation work)
~~4. Da die Hirten ihre Herde~~
5. We met in the quiet of the meadow
6. My life goes on in endless song HINT: new age/Celtic
~~7. Adonai, Adonai... Lo gavah libi~~
~~8. Funny day, looking for laughter and finding it there~~
~~9. Give me one reason to stay here and I'll turn right back around.~~
~~10. I have spent nights with matches and knives~~
~~11. Can you hear the drums...~~ HINT: the title of the song is the next word.
12. An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day HINT: country classic!
~~13. Half the people are stoned~~
14. Empty spaces, what are we living for HINT: classic rock
15. No more carefree laughter HINT: same performer(s) as another already guessed item on this list
16. I cannot ask you when exactly you plan to leave (you won't know the performer, but if you get the composer, extra bonus points!!)
~~17. Hello, darkness, my old friend~~
18. The sky may be starless... HINT: jazz standard, popular artist
~~19. Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together~~
20. Won't you please let me go HINT: assoc. with Little Miss Sunshine
~~21. I've an unrest inside me~~ HINT: showtune
22. Oh, play me some... HINT: classic 80s country
23. Goodnight my angel HINT: leave these questions for another day...
~~24. Barbare! Non, sans toi je ne puis vivre~~ HINT: opera "reformer"
~~25. Where have all the good men gone~~ (it is for the gym, OK?)

GOOD LUCK! Fabulous prizes for all, of course...

UPDATED 5/5 with HINTS!! I felt sure no. 2, 12 and 23 would be guessed long before no. 4!
UPDATED 5/7: updated hint to No. 15

Repressing the Resurrection of the Sphinx: A Meme

2008-05-03T19:54:00.004-05:00

Well, the lofty musicological musings are going to have to wait. I have been tagged by Phil Ford.

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.

I couldn't subject you to what is on p. 123 of The Resume Handbook, so here are the offerings from the next closest book: Sabine Prokhoris' The Witch's Kitchen: Freud, Faust, and the Transference.

"This now permits me to take the further step of identifying metapsychology as the precise articulation of thought with the transference. It follows that thinking in metapsychological terms means, within the reality of a practice, using analytic theory in such a way as to thwart the effects of the repression that necessarily presides over theory's elaboration. I have called this "resurrecting the Sphinx."

Hmm. I'm thinking extending my reach to grab Isak Dinesen's Babette's Feast might have been a more generous offering. I'm sure, however, that the excerpt from p. 123 of Prohkoris' book will make more sense when I've read the entire work.

Since Phil F. already tagged my usual suspects, I'm sending this on to other reputable blogging colleagues who have been neglected (by me) as of late (at least in terms of commenting!). So, I hereby tag:

Tim
Elaine
Emily

Looking for some Norwegian memeage from
Erik

And as a nudge...;-)
Sammee

And please, if you read this blog, consider yourself tagged.

A new lease on blogging

2008-04-22T07:38:00.005-05:00

It has been a month since I've last written on this blog. I'm feeling sensitive about this given Phil Ford's recent post over at Dial M. I've given a little bit of thought to WHY I haven't been blogging and I've come up with several reasons:

a recent stream of professional disappointments
it is the end of the semester with finals to make, papers to grade, and complaints to be heard
a general sense of WHY???

Well, once again, serendipity offered two wonderful answers to the final question (via the blogosphere).

The first, was a comment that appeared in response to my last post. What was a fun and silly little meme has now been set to music by composing colleague Chris. I take great joy in this "collaboration" (which was also a lovely surprise when I checked my e-mail at 6:30am yesterday). I've never met Chris in person (we've come close!) but here we are with a song: his music, my memeage. :-)

The second, was an analogy offered by Jonathan Bellman at the ever-wonderful Dial M. Blogging for him, he offers, is like "good, solid piano practice." This made me realize something important. Blogging offers an excellent forum to keep my musicological muscles in shape. It will only help as I endeavor to get more papers and articles accepted. Just as my voice has now improved as I am singing again, so shall my musicology. And yes, I care if you listen (read). I need and want the feedback...and blogging allows me to offer my thoughts for your feedback without any review process, political system, or sheer luck of the draw blocking the way. And that is fantastic.

So, in the coming weeks, I hope to be more substantive in my posting and look forward to jumping back into the musicological blogosphere with renewed enthusiasm.

Thank you Phil, Jonathan and Chris!

Ode to Benjaminas Zelkevičius

2008-03-21T21:30:00.004-05:00

Alright, as I crawl out from under papers to be graded and articles to be drafted, I offer you...
yes, a meme. I know there will be more substantive offerings soon...just not now. But, as memes go, this one is fairly substantive, especially when subjected to the analysis of Phil Ford over at Dial M.

Phil got it from Brent over at Musikwissenbloggenschaft
which I added to the MMM blogroll yesterday.

1. your song is going to have a title, a chorus, and two verses . . . is that too conformist for you? too bad. deal.

2. song title is the first random wikipedia article you pull up.

3. the first verse is the mash up of the first four words of the first four quotes and the last four words of the last four quotes from here. pair the first quotes first words with the last quotes last words, and so on.

4. the second verse is a mash up like the first, but refresh for a new page o' quotes.

5. the chorus you ask? the title of your song, four times, of course!

6. if you are feeling grammariffic, add prepositions and make verbs make sense (if possible). or don't let the grammar-man tell you what to do and skip it.

7. post the lyrics or--if you are feeling rather adventurous--record the thing.

I wound up with a folk song about a Lithuanian football coach. I took one word out to make the butter line work (yes, I'm feeling grammariffic, even if it is eh, regional grammar). The first verse has a lot of topical resonance, I think. A little touch of Eleanor Rigby plus one part Arlo Guthrie? I don't know, you tell me:

Benjaminas Zelkevičius

There's no secret about backing a winning candidate
In mathematics you don't have absence of fear
All truths are easy and in the recent past
I think people have to face rejection.

Benjaminas Zelkevičius (x4)

When the character of talking is waiting
Without the aid can never be complete
I don't even butter them things
Stubborness is also determination. [It's] kind of lousy.

Benjaminas Zelkevičius (x4)

Swimming with Mozart and Haydn

2008-03-02T20:25:00.005-05:00

I suppose it isn't a bad thing to feel torn between two different areas of academic interest. I missed my American music friends in San Antonio, but did meet a whole new network of 18th-c music friends in California. An excellent paper on the 18th-century American Symphony and its influence on national identity managed to pull together both interests.

What struck me most, however, is the sense of camaraderie and collegiality that permeates SECM* (and the Society for American Music, I might add). Academically speaking I was a fish out of water at this particular conference, given that I specialize in twentieth-century American music. However, it didn't seem to matter. These scholars of Haydn, Stamitz, Mozart, etc., seemed ready to discourse about the 20th-century concert Mass no matter their own areas of research. There was a general sense that the common link was music, and that was most important.

Oddly, I felt that the blurring of "specialist" distinctions was far more obvious at this "specialized" conference than at AMS** conferences, where one is supposed to find a peaceful co-existence of varied academic interests all under the same roof. It didn't matter if I had demonstrated 18th-c music as a legitimate secondary research interest. All that really mattered was that I was there, engaged and ready to learn and share. In the breaks between papers, we talked about music, teaching, power point, structuring articles...every single area of common ground. It didn't feel contrived, either. There were no wandering glances over to the other side of the room in search of "true" colleagues. There were no "so what exactly are you doing here?" questions (a question I have received more than once upon entering an AMS session outside my field of specialty). The overall sense of inclusivity was striking and encouraging.

I hope that this is what we (as a discipline) are moving toward. That is not to say I want to see job descriptions that seek scholars who specialize in Prussian music and have "secondary research areas" that include jazz, Turkish pop, and medieval chant (and must be able to teach bassoon!). Specialization is fine, and indeed, it is necessary. I just think we need to encourage a sense that specialization does not preclude mingling and mixing with the crowd at large.

*Society for Eighteenth-Century Music
**American Musicological Society

Metropolitan Opera Meme

2008-02-08T16:11:00.000-05:00

I figure it has been awhile, so I'm entitled to some memeage. This one comes from Matthew over at Soho the Dog, via Wellsung, Parterre Box, and Steve Smith:

What did the Met perform on the day you were born? Or if you are a summer baby, the day you were conceived (if you prefer, as was Matthew's choice).

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg {363}
Metropolitan Opera House
Debut: Eva Marton

If we treat this like astrology, I suppose there should be some sort of significance. I'd love to write something witty about being the Abgesang to my parents Stollen, but that doesn't really make very much sense (and not just because I'm adopted). I did write my first "serious" college music paper on the medieval Meistersinger tradition as represented in Wagner's opera.

Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night...

2008-02-05T11:08:00.000-05:00

They walked together, arms linked, under one umbrella, not in any kind of rush. One of them carried the umbrella, and the other leaned heavily on a cane. It was pouring, but there was a job to be done and by golly, these octogenarian ladies weren't going to let a little rain stop them.

They hobbled up the steps of the high school, through the double glass doors, and...

VOTED.

If they can vote, so can you.

If you are in a Super Tuesday state, and haven't voted yet, stop reading this and go...NOW!! :-)

Musical Memorials

2008-01-31T16:53:00.000-05:00

I apologize in advance for the somber nature of this post. My absence from the blogging world has been largely due to a very ill young cat named Henry who was suffering from FIP. We had to "put him down" last Thursday and the hole we feel is bigger than we imagined.

But, I'm also thinking about the loved ones, friends and colleagues of two musical lives, each leaving important musical legacies. For those of you who are in the New York area, please note:

A Celebration of the Life of

H.Wiley Hitchcock

Founding Director of the Institute for Studies in American Music and
Distinguished Professor of Music Emeritus, Brooklyn College
and The Graduate Center of The City University of NewYork

Saturday, March 8, 2008
Five o’clock
Saint Peter’s Church, Lexington Avenue at East 54th Street, New York

H. Wiley Hitchcock was an icon in musicology, especially for us Americanists. His Music in the United States was the first book I read that sealed my desire to be an Americanist. I remember meeting him at a conference of the Society for American Music and sensing a joy-filled spirit (sometimes difficult to find at academic conferences). May he rest in peace.

and for those of you in Boston, very short notice I'm afraid:

The Memorial for Craig Smith

The Memorial for Craig Smith, Founder and Artistic Director of Emmanuel Music, will be held on January 31 at 7:30 PM in the sanctuary of Emmanuel Church.

The program will include works by Bach, Schütz, Mozart, Schubert and Brahms. The performers will include current and alumni members of the Orchestra and Chorus of Emmanuel Music.

The public is cordially invited to attend.

Emmanuel Music
15 Newbury Street, Boston
617.536.3356
www.emmanuelmusic.org

An upper-respiratory bug sadly keeps me from this celebration of life tonight. I had the good fortune of seeing Craig Smith conduct at Emmanuel in one of his last performances. I did not know the man, but I know many who hold him in the highest regard. This is a great loss for the music community at large.

Synchronicity?

2008-01-10T08:21:00.000-05:00

Carla Bruni had not registered on my radar screen before I read Matthew Guerrieri's post yesterday over at Soho the Dog. Today, I walk in to my favorite java haunt only to hear...yep, Carla Bruni's album. I realized that I heard this same album two days ago (same java haunt) and took note of nothing except that it was in French. Now I'm actually listening to it and I'm thinking it is the new "cafe" music, a spot held by Norah Jones "Come Away With Me" for a long time. That's not a criticism, but perhaps a valid subgenre?

The cashier told me: "I had never heard of Carla Bruni. But she's engaged to the French president and used to be a model." I should have asked her if she reads Soho the Dog!

Norwegian Blogging Colleague

2008-01-08T23:17:00.000-05:00

Unfortunately, Jeg/eg snakker/snakkar ikke/ikkje norsk (~~completely unconjugated and gender neutral, courtesy of WikiTravel~~), but in the spirit of reciprocation, I'm adding Erik Steinskog's blog to the Music and More Blogroll. His blogroll is quite the reference! And his work looks intriguing. I look forward to reading some of it! Thanks for the listing, Erik!

Candidate Playlists

2008-01-07T13:12:00.001-05:00

Ok, ok...I know it is lame to start the year off with a post that merely links to someone else's post, but I'm in the frantic process of finishing a syllabus (makes me rethink my admonishment to students regarding procrastination).

At any rate, Phil Ford offers the campaign trail playlists of the various candidates and some good food for thought (as usual). A couple of years back, James Deaville gave a paper at SAM (Society for American Music) about the impact of music used by CNN, Fox, etc to sell the news (specifically, the war). Music in the Media, is, in my opinion, one of the most relevant musicological endeavors.

Who knows, maybe the use of "Sweet Caroline" will win the hearts of all those Red Sox fans.

This campaign season, keep your eyes AND ears open.

Compare and Contrast

2007-12-16T07:59:00.000-05:00

The view from our porch on Thursday, 7:30pm:

vs. the View from our porch on Sunday, 7:30AM

Time Out for the White Stuff

2007-12-13T19:33:00.000-05:00

The view from our front porch 7:30pm EST.

Henry is not excited.

Not So Guilty Pleasures (Cross-Post)

2007-11-30T20:25:00.000-05:00

I was invited to guest blog over at Musicology/Matters, and was given permission to cross post. So for those of you who may not frequent musicology blogs, but for various and sundry reasons visit this one, I give you:

Not So Guilty Pleasures

Phil and Kariann have offered astute and engaging ideas about this business of "guilty pleasures" and their place in musicology. I will try to offer something fresh and original as a musicologist who specializes in music that is considered by many to be a true guilty pleasure (witness the confessional Facebook group: "I listen to sacred choral/organ music...AND I LIKE IT!").

At my first meeting of the Society for American Music (mmph years ago), I remember a certain musicologist imploring at the business meeting: "Don't do pop music because it is trendy, do it because it is what you love." (That's a paraphrase, actually.). This statement was greeted with defensive grumbles and nasty whispers as if he had insinuated that pop music scholars were just in it for the trendiness aspect.

That's not it at all, but clearly he exposed some people sitting in that room. I am not a pop music scholar, but his comment made me think about the music that I love. Even though "choral music" can include Haydn's Die Schöpfung, Beethoven's Missa Solemnis, not to mention of a whole slew of medieval and Renaissance masterpieces, it also includes a plethora of short, two to three page cream puffs written for various church choirs and other choral ensembles. It is true that there is often little intellectual mileage to be found in Joe Smith's arrangement of Amazing Grace or Jane Brown's 16 measure introit written for the shoestring choir at St. Anne's-By-The-Lake.* Much of this is Gebrauchsmusik and the composers of said music couldn't care less what musicologists think of it (and rightfully so). Unfortunately, because the label "choral music" includes ALL of this, it often gets excluded from the list of acceptable areas for academic discourse. Medieval and Renaissance choral works get sheltered by the historical musicology crowd and the love for the old. Choral works of Bach, Mozart, and Haydn are extolled as works of Bach, Mozart and Haydn. Most of the choral music of the Romantic period is seen as an example of Romantic ideologies of excess (Berlioz, Verdi) or those occasional studies in harmonic adventure.

That brings us to my area of specialty: twentieth-century American sacred music. Truth be told, it is actually "twentieth and twenty-first- century," but when I tried the label "contemporary" I opened up a door I couldn't shut quickly enough. Rushing toward me came numerous requests to review "O Taste and See" for guitar and folk singer, or CDs by Jars of Clay, or questions about preferences for Amy Grant vs. Rebecca St. James. I could say "modern," but that also opens up its own can of worms. A rose is clearly not a rose when it comes to academic labels.

Not only do I specialize in such a loaded and quixotic category of music, I wrote my dissertation on the impact of the Second Vatican Council on the American Concert Mass. Sexy? No. Misunderstood? Yes. See the following dialogue:

Prof. X: Ah! So you do folk masses.
RM: No. I'm looking at traditional Latin Masses (or Latin-inspired masses) written for the concert hall as responses to Vatican II.
Prof: X: Oh. That's interesting. What composers? Any I might have heard of?
RM: Leonard Bernstein (a Jew), Paul Creston (a very eclectic Catholic) and Lou Harrison (a Buddhist)
Prof. X: (Stunned silence).

Which brings me to my point. We as musicologists need to define to what extent musicology involves musical advocacy. I thought it was important to show that there existed a strong aesthetic reaction to the post-Vatican II liturgical mass, by mainstream composers lying outside of the Church and its particular interests. Do I love sacred choral music? Yes. Do I feel at all guilty about it? No. Would I have been able to spend mmpph years working on a dissertation if I didn't love it? Absolutely not.

I don't think we should have to negotiate personal taste and intellectual duty to any degree that we might find ourselves writing about music for which we care little (either about the music itself or its historical context). Anyone who has ever taught music appreciation will tell you that half the trick is one's own enthusiasm for the music. What kind of artifice are we encouraging if we relegate entire categories of music to the musicological trash-heap? If I write about music, whether it be Steve Reich's Different Trains, Hildegard's Ordo Virtutum, or the Clash's album London Calling (to pull a few examples from the recent AMS conference), I had better believe that there's something there worth writing about and worth sharing with the community at large. That is both our personal duty and our intellectual duty. And while I'm not advocating a "Who Cares if you Listen?" approach to musicology, I am proposing that our own love for the music be enough, and the work we do will speak for itself.

Not everything we love as music listeners will have musicological value, and it is important to recognize that. (How we determine that value is worthy of a fresh round of blog posts.) However, as academicians, we should be defining academe, not the other way around. And in regard to this endeavor, I suggest that the sky be the limit. Let us welcome guilty pleasures and intellectual constructs alike, so that we can be true to what brought us here in the first place, rather than be enslaved to a limited canon.

Quick Plug: New Musicology Blog!

2007-11-17T08:34:00.000-05:00

It is a concert weekend, so I'm running around, but I at the very least wanted to point out a new musicology blog!

Please visit and read the wonderful offerings at:

Musicology Matters

Too Many Papers, Not Enough Time: AMS 2007 Wrap-Up

2007-11-08T08:43:00.000-05:00

In the past, there have been AMS conferences where I was more of a tourist than a conference attendee. My first conference was "Musical Intersections" in Toronto back in 2000, and the convergence of fifteen musical societies was a bit more than my virgin musicological heart could handle. Toronto is a lovely city. I can particularly recommend the Art Gallery of Ontario.

Then there have been the times of musicological malaise, most noticeably during my dissertating years. I wandered through paper sessions more or less on automatic pilot. I was at those papers to see and be seen. "See me, Dr. X? I'm here listening to your paper. I'll expect a gold star." I'd converse at the receptions. "Oh, and what is your dissertation on?" Press "play." Followed by either a look of total incredulity or a sudden keen interest in the exquisite deviled eggs.

And then, there was this year. Freshly armed with a PhD, I realized I had more to talk about than just my dissertation. It was freeing to use the past tense when the subject came up. I could talk about my current projects and my adjunct teaching. I think I surprised a few people who had long been accustomed to hearing about The Document and only, The Document.

I found myself in sessions where I would have seldom tread in prior years. I no longer felt alien in a medieval session, or guilty about missing one or two papers in my area (especially when the conflict was another paper). AMS once again felt like a smorgasbord of opportunity, and it did not disappoint. I remembered a time, long ago, that I wanted to be a MedievalBaroqueRenaissanceTwentiethCentury Specialist. I felt the sweet disappointment of having too many options.

I saw a lot of phenomenal papers and some good ones. My attendance choices supported friends, former professors, and fed my general intellectual curiosity. And with all these choices, I missed quite a bit, including Ryan Banagale and Phil Ford's presentations, graciously reproduced on their respective blogs.

I'd like to thank everyone involved in this year's conference, from the organizers to the presenters. For the first time in many years, I did not muse about how different my life would be had I chosen International Relations.

For those of you who are interested, see also Phil Gentry's AMS Wrap-Up
and Jonathan Bellman's information on Disinformation.

Crack for Academics: AMS 2007 Post I

2007-11-02T07:13:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Quebec City! This will be necessarily brief, as I hope to catch Margot Fassler's paper, "Hildegard's Ordo Virtutum: Theological Meanings and the Problem of Audience."

The highlight of the conference thus far (for me) was the Lecture-Demonstration: "Virtual Acoustics and the Recording of Joseph Haydn's Keyboard Music." While I had to miss the last half hour, I enjoyed the convergence of auditory and acoustic technology with musicology and aesthetics. The discussion brought up questions of authencity: Is it ok to be "inauthentic" yet strive for a different acoustic experience then what one would normally hear? Tom Beghin and his colleagues from McGill have tried to create recordings (through the recreation of original instruments and the virtual reproduction of acoustic environments) which emulate a historical listening experience. Yes, it is idealized and unmuddied by the realities that plagued Lobkowitz Palace and other such locations, but one does not buy a CD of Haydn keyboard sonatas so that they can hear the cook chasing the scullery maid in the background.

One of the better problems to have at a conference is wanting to be in three places at the same time. And while I was not "drinking at the opening-night reception" (or at least not at that moment), I did have to miss Phil Ford and friends during the Committee on Career-Related Issues. How lucky we are that Phil has reproduced his presentation over at Dial M, helping to make his point quite effectively. If blogging is "crack for academics" then I'm all for the addiction.

I so expected extra innings...

2007-10-29T07:30:00.000-05:00

"The Red Sox are so becoming America's team," said Chris Daly, 32, who watched the game at the Brendan Behan Pub in Jamaica Plain. "The curse is done and we'll start seeing, for better or worse, what money does. The World Series will be less sweet because they'll be more frequent. It's less punk rock, a little more corporate." (1)

He may be right. But for now, we celebrate a fantastic sweep!

Article

Blog Action Day: Credo

2007-10-15T05:39:00.000-05:00

This post is my contribution to Blog Action Day. I am one of over 15,000 blogs participating in this year's action: the Environment.

Credo: Why I choose

I was struck by how difficult it was to come up with a topic on which to write for Blog Action Day. This is not because there is any lack of “environmental” issues that catch my interest, but because it seemed impossible to prioritize desertification over deforestation, pollution over procreation, or climate control over conservation. It is that sense of impossibility, of moral inclusiveness, that defines my own environmentalism.

At a party several weeks ago, a friend brought up his skepticism about global warming. His basic argument (and it was a good one) was to ask: Why is global warming any more important than fighting AIDS, or cancer, or working to make sure people have clean drinking water? The quick and easy answer? It’s not. If we are going to make the fight against climate change a moral endeavor, we can’t say it is more important than trying to fight hunger or poverty. But at the end of the day, we all have choices to make. And there are many. So why have I picked Global Warming?

First, a disclaimer. I’m operating under two assumptions. One: Global Warming exists and is a problem. Two: Only we can do something about it. Because I believe that the evidence overwhelmingly points to these truths, I make my choices accordingly. For this reason, I’m not interested in mudslinging, catfighting, or even bantering, with those that argue the veracity of climate change. Consider it a type of figurative energy conservation.

My approach is to consider the biggest picture possible. The truth is that many of us living in the US could likely adapt to some of the worst case scenarios of climate change. We have what I would call “the privilege of adaptation.”* But my own sense of morality obligates me to look at the rest of the world and consider it, to some extent, my responsibility. While I cannot simultaneously plant trees in Kenya and combat desertification in Sudan, I can embrace those regions of the world under a blanket of global humanity. I see the fight against global warming as a fight that will work from the top down. I’m not working against AIDS advocacy, or water purification, or the sustainability movement. I’m working for them. I’m making those efforts worthwhile by fighting to ensure that the better world they are trying to create will still be here when they reach their goals. I want to be a steward of the planet to honor the work of those who are stewards of humanity.

There are plenty of people who would take my “environmentalism” to task. I eat meat, for example. Those interested in running a hypocrisy check could probably find a few environmental no-nos in amongst my compact fluorescents, water-saving showerheads, and devotion to public transit. Most human beings are incapable of all-or-nothing, and I will not argue with zealots or purists. At the end of the day, my mere awareness of a horizon bigger than the Boston skyline entitles me to walk confidently amidst my own ideas of activism.

I will continue to advocate for better emissions standards, alternative forms of transportation, energy efficiency, etc. all to combat what I consider to be human-induced climate change. I have to do this for the people whose relationship with the earth is not buffered by layers of technology and man-made construction. I will endeavor to make my government listen and take the lead in promoting environmental responsibility. And in the end, if it turns out I was wrong and global warming really was just a hoax, I will have no regrets because the things for which I will have worked so hard have merit outside “An Inconvenient Truth” and IPCC reports. I will have sustained an idea of global citizenship, and for that, I will have no apologies.

*I’m indebted to HM for a discussion on this topic.

I will be including other interesting Blog Action Day posts in my "Posts of Note" box to the right. Check them out!

October 15th: Blog Action Day

2007-10-09T08:43:00.000-05:00

I know I've fallen behind in my posting, and I apologize for that. But stay tuned for my Oct. 15th post as I take part in Blog Action Day.

Burma/Myanmar

2007-09-28T15:18:00.000-05:00

This has nothing to do with musicology, but it is important. If you haven't heard what's happening in Burma, the time is now. They've shut down internet access...

Blog (graphic pictures)

CNN article

How To Survive A Dissertation: Part II: COPING

2007-09-19T14:11:00.000-05:00

COPING

While I had promised in my last post to regale you with tales of setting margins, choosing paper, adjusting styles in MS Word, and other fun tales, I received an IM this week that made me think this particular post is more important. Copyright permissions and the like will have to wait..

HOW TO COPE

You may be halfway to two-thirds toward reaching your day of glory, or maybe you are working on a proposal, or maybe the dissertation seems like this huge obstacle you'll be tackling in a year or so from now. No matter where you are in the process, know that writing a dissertation can be one of the most emotionally dynamic experiences of your life. As Joan Bolker says: "Whether or not writing turns out to be your practice, writing your dissertation will still have changed you for all time" (Writing your Dissertation in 15 Minutes a Day, 150).

The following list contains just a sampling of emotions you may experience during the course of the diss: frustration, joy, depression, confusion, satisfaction, despair, wonderment, excitement...Like I said, dynamic! So how does one cope under the stress of such an emotional roller-coaster? Well, let's rephrase that questions: How does one TRY to cope?

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

You can and will receive support from family and friends, but it is important that you have reasonable expectations of them. When you need support because of dissertation-related stress, I suggest using the following "hierarchy." This hierarchy is NOT a statement about the quality of the people or the friendships (so I'm looking for a different word), but instead a strategy for success when seeking empathy.

GROUP A: They've Been There

Aside from being repositories of helpful advice and information, these people do know what it is like. Seek out people who have completed their dissertation within the last ten years, so a) they aren't too emotionally removed from the process and b) they can relate to the struggles of a modern dissertation. Occasionally you may run into someone who was so traumatized by their experience they "don't want to talk about it," but more often than not, people will want to help you by sharing their own hard-won wisdom. Ideally, you'll find someone willing to both listen and share. This is also why it is a good idea to have a junior faculty member on your committee.

GROUP B: Misery Loves Company

To some extent this is true, but you want to make this interaction productive. Getting together with fellow dissertators for a huge venting session can be satisfying and healthy. But venting only gets you so far. Try to form a support/writing group that meets weekly. Give yourselves a pre-determined amount of time to chat/vent then get down to work. If you are all at the writing stage, exchange a couple pages every week with a partner and give constructive feedback to each other.*

*Peer advice can be very helpful and doesn't come wrapped up with the same psychology of receiving comments from a mentor or advisor.

GROUP C: We Love You Anyway

These folks are likely to be the people closest to you...the ones who are still there after you've bitten their heads off for the fiftieth time, whom you've told they "just have no idea," and who have been willing to listen to hour-long pontifications about the finer points of liturgical theory as it relates to ritual and the concertized Latin Mass. Not surprisingly, it is this group of people who you will most likely find yourself pushing away. Try to be aware of this. They love you, and no, they may not "get" everything, but they'll be there at the end of the day and want to celebrate your success.

Solitude

As far as dissertating goes, solitude can be both a blessing and a curse. Try to know when you need it and when you don't. I'm a people person, so I was much more comfortable working at a coffee shop, where the reminder of life was comforting and helped me focus. For others, holing up with a carrel at the library may be what they need. Sometimes you'll find yourself craving one or the other.

If you start thinking "I'm all alone," amber lights should start flashing. At best, it may just be periodic self-pity. More importantly, this can often be an indication of depression (even a minor form), because the truth is, you are NOT alone. Even if you don't have the flesh-and-blood colleagues around you to form a writing group, the internet has expanded our professional and social resources. Find an on-line dissertation support group (or start one!). Call and email your PhD and ABD friends. One helpful resource: The All-But-Dissertation Survival Guide (I recommend their newsletters).

Note on photo: I'm considering this fair-use, but I'll be happy to give credit, so if you took this photo, let me know.

How to Survive a Dissertation: Part I

2007-09-14T09:55:00.000-05:00

Now that I am a bonafide PhD, I do not claim to know anything and everything about writing dissertations. (Nor do I resemble anything close to the above figure). I do know what helped me. Writing it here does NOT mean I always followed my own advice, but when I did, I reaped the rewards. I decided to consolidate my dissertation experiences into a helpful guide (I hope) and this idea has already received an enthusiastic endorsement from several friends who are dissertators. This post will offer some general advice that is applicable to any long writing project, not just a dissertation. I hope you find it useful!

1. Carry a moleskine, small notebook, whatever suits your purpose. Have another one on your bedside table, and another at your home work station.

Ideas have a bad habit of appearing at the most inconvenient times. As any good GTDer knows, the Ubiquitous Capture Tool (UCT) is of the utmost import. This is especially true for the dissertator. If you think you'll remember to write it down, you probably won't. Don't take chances. (Moleskines or a notebook with a pocket are especially helpful if you run into a dissertation contact who hands you their card). While PDAs can be good UCTs, generally they get a little overloaded if you have a flurry of inspiration and your idea translates into an entire paragraph or two of workable material.

2. Envision the end. Use your imagination.

When gravity is seemingly pulling you toward the molten core of the earth, stop what you are doing and allow yourself to daydream. For me, it helped to think about calling my college mentor and introducing myself as "Dr." For you, it might be something else: telling your parents, eating that pint of Ben & Jerry's you promised yourself, whatever. Allow yourself to fantasize. There is a whole lot of data out there about the positive effects of envisioning your goal. Close your eyes and let yourself really feel whatever emotions you'd like. This may sound cheesy, but it really does help when you feel isolated and like no one really cares if you finish.

3. Beware the Vices and the Stress

Watch the drinking, smoking, caffeine, (insert your own vice). Life will continue after the dissertation and you'll want to be healthy enough to enjoy it. Graduate School takes enough of a toll on your health without you helping! That said, I am not suggesting you become an ascetic. Just watch yourself. If you notice that you are using alcohol (for instance) as a crutch, something has to change. I promise that your dissertation won't get written any faster if you drink a martini, or two, or three. I can attest to this (lest you think I'm a hypocrite).

Make time to exercise. You've got to. Even if it is only a half hour of stretching, working on a Liszt piano concerto, whatever. While I didn't graph it, I'm fairly sure there was a direct correlation between the days I exercised and the days I was most productive.

Meditate. I don't mean that you have to sit on a mat in the lotus position and hum. That is an option, however. Just take some quiet time alone to concentrate on your breathing. This can be in your house, or in some nice outside locale. I recommend this especially before you sit down to write.

Take breaks and take them often. Do not even attempt to do three hours of uninterrupted dissertation work. If you have three hours of work in you, it will happen on its own. Set a more reasonable goal, even if it is only fifteen minutes (see book recommendation below). USE A TIMER. A general rule, however, is that the break should be shorter than the work time.

Posture. While this may seem like a no-brainer, most people who sit at the computer all day have terrible posture (myself included). This really will affect your emotional/psychological well-being and your ability to focus. Make sure you have a good chair with good lumbar support. Your abdominal muscles should be supporting your spine. Your arms should be supported on your desk when you type. Better carriage gives you more energy. I forget my posture at almost an hourly rate, so I have a post-it on my computer that says "POSTURE." Your chiropractor will thank you.

4. Fifteen Minutes a Day

I've read quite a few books on how to write a dissertation and I'll be reviewing them here. One of the best, in my opinion, is Joan Bolker's Writing Your Dissertation in Fifteen Minutes A Day: A Guide to Starting, Revising, and Finishing Your Doctoral Thesis. Bolker has numerous worthy suggestions and excellent practical advice, but what I'd like to focus on is the "fifteen minute" idea. EVERYONE has fifteen minutes.

The hardest part to writing (anything) is getting started. Sitting down to "draft a chapter" is a far more daunting task than sitting down to write fifteen minutes of material. More often than not, 15 minutes will turn into an hour without you thinking about it. But, on the days it doesn't, the likelihood is that you will have at least a couple sentences of usable material. If you are feeling really unmotivated, I suggest what I call "barfing it out" (elegant, yes?). Don't worry if it isn't pretty or doesn't even make logical sense...just get it out of your head and on to the paper. Leave it be, then return to it the next day to see what you can extract from the gobbeldygook. You may be surprised.

The next installment will feature more practical advice on maintaining bibliographies, MS Word strategies, backups and exciting topics like that! I look forward to comments and helpful tips from my readers!!

Dora says it best...

2007-09-06T19:54:00.000-05:00

I'll let you figure out who the troll was. :-)

PHEW! Guess I've got to change my blog blurb now!

EXTRA-CREDIT to anyone who can tell me what the lyrics say (I've got as far as "Lo Hicimos, the bridge and the troll... but she goes up the mountain and does WHAT? And it just goes downhill from there.)

I woke up this morning...

2007-09-06T05:33:00.000-05:00

...and Pavarotti was dead.

Back in the day, when I loathed opera, when I associated opera with Saturday house-cleaning, when I didn't know how to listen to music, I knew Pavarotti. He was the emblem of opera. Word-association: opera = Pavarotti.

An icon.

And now, he's gone. May he rest in peace. I hope he is singing with Beverly, Jerry, and Regine. What a year.

Practicing self-control

2007-09-05T13:30:00.000-05:00

I managed not to bite through my tongue, rip my hair out or dig my nails into my own flesh as the nice woman at Fed-Ex explained that the plane broke down and that is why my dissertation is sitting in the Fed-Ex in Memphis, TN instead of on the West Coast. She assures me that it will get to the final destination by TOMORROW morning at 10:30am PST. I even remembered to thank her for the information.

I think I will now go run around the block several hundred times.

I've Fed-Exed probably twenty packages in my short life. THIS had to be the one not to arrive on time? At least I gave myself a little bit of a cushion...very little.

A true Laborious Labor Day Weekend

2007-09-02T15:33:00.001-05:00

They go out on Tuesday via Fed-Ex (after a quick jaunt to the post office to get a postal money order--grrr.)

Then, we wait. No premature congrats, please. It ain't over til its over, but I've done my part. :-) I'll keep you posted.

Prayers, good thoughts, positive energy, etc...all gratefully accepted. :-)

50 Book Challenge #14: City of Ladies

2007-08-29T19:49:00.000-05:00

50 Book Challenge #14: The City of Ladies by Christine de Pizan (trans. Rosalind Brown-Grant, Penguin Classics, 1999).

Christine de Pizan, writing in the year 1405, writes a treatise on feminist equality by way of a dialogue with personifications of Reason, Rectitude and Justice. These three "sisters" help Christine to edify and fortify her "City of Ladies" wherein women are able to celebrate their full potential, unhindered by the malevolent misogyny so prevalent to the time.

While Reason, Rectitude and Justice rattle off a laundry list of historical female exemplars, the real value of the treatise lies with Christine herself. While the Christine in the book plays the part of the virtuous, but naive, young woman, the subtext makes clear that Christine de Pizan is an intellectual force with which to be reckoned. She demonstrates a knowledge of literature, philosophy, and rhetoric that was inaccessible to many women of the time. If her argument fails in any sense, it is only in that she fails to address how women might rise above their station.

And while Christine focuses on negating the misogynistic assertions of other writers, her own feminist thought has its limits. She admits, through the voice of Reason, that it would "not be right for [women] to abandon their customary modesty and to go about bringing cases before a court." It is, however, necessary for Christine to abandon her own modesty, which she does in several instances, particularly through self-referencing her earlier related works. The dialogue style enables her to do this without too much self-aggrandizement.

While none of the ideas contained within The City of Ladies will shock the 21st century western mind, the larger lesson on the power of the word is invaluable.

Another Quiz from Soho the Dog

2007-08-26T10:36:00.001-05:00

Matthew Guerrieri offers another musically-minded quiz to aid me in my procrastination.

1. What's the best quotation of a piece of music within another piece of music?
Quote from Haydn Symphony no. 94 in Die Jahreszeiten. It certainly isn't the "best" but it happened to just come up on the iPod.

2. Name the best classical crossover album ever made.
I don't know about best, but I'll cast another vote for Yo-Yo Ma's Soul of the Tango (sorry, Elaine). Also a big fan of the Swingle Singers.

3. Great piece with a terrible title.
This is a tough one. I'll have to modify it to great piece with terrible text. I'll go with Kirke Mechem's Five Centuries of Spring which requires singing the following text: "not only underground are the brains of men, eaten by maggots" courtesy of Edna St. Vincent Millay.

Ah...I know! Marais' Le Tableau de l'Opération de la Taille.

4. If you had to choose: Benjamin Britten or Michael Tippett?
Britten

5. Who's your favorite spouse of a composer/performer? (Besides your own.)
It is a pity Alma is taken. I'll say Felicia Montealegre.

6. Terrible piece with a great title.
decline to state

7. What's the best use of a classical warhorse in a Hollywood movie?
Again, "best" is perhaps not the word I'm looking for. Strauss' Also Sprach Zarathustra in 2001: A Space Odyssey deserves mention since most of the world knows it as "the 2001 theme."

8. Name the worst classical crossover album ever made.
Worst? Probably something by Il Divo. I'll also submit Vanessa Mae's Storm.

9. If you had to choose: Sam Cooke or Marvin Gaye?
Sam Cooke

10. Name a creative type in a non-musical medium who would have been a great composer.
Milan Kundera (I'm still hoping). I don't know if he counts though, since he formally studied composition.

EXTRA CREDIT:

For early-music nerds: Name a completely and hopelessly historically uninformed recording that you nevertheless love.

I don't "love" this, but it is worthy of mention...the "lounge-chant" version of Haec Dies on the eighth edition of the Norton Recordings.

Sound vs. Sight

2007-08-21T13:32:00.000-05:00

Roger Bourland posits, "Music has to be SEEN nowadays, and not just heard." He is understandably frustrated that people more readily click on YouTube video clips than mp3 examples. I also find myself discouraged by our increasingly visual culture.
While there is nothing wrong with visual arts, there does seem to be an unfair emphasis on the visual over the aural. I assert to my music appreciation students that while they are good hearers, they are not necessarily good listeners. Hearing is a sense, but listening is a cultivated skill. A parallel might be made between looking vs. seeing. With the increasing amount of input in today's world, I think listening and seeing are both falling by the wayside (bedfellows with critical thinking). However, a typical non-music major, when given the option between the two, will chose seeing over listening. I would also submit, that when an aural element is paired with a visual element, it is usually the former that gets short-changed. It is easier for most people to focus on the visual element and put the aural in the background. Perhaps this is because the aural (in particular music) is so often the background of our daily existence.
There have been many times I have had to close my eyes to remove a visual distraction in order to focus fully on my listening. I often have my students close their eyes (always an interesting exercise in self-consciousness) and nine times out of ten, they report being able to "hear" better. While I'm not sure wearing earplugs would necessarily enhance the visual experience (at least not immediately), this business of sensory isolation is important. It has long been agreed that people who are blind, deaf, etc...often have other enhanced senses to compensate. I wonder if those of us with all our senses compensate by dulling all of them. We couldn't possibly give priority to our smelling, tasting, touching, seeing, and listening all at the same time. So, we are forced to make choices.
More evidence that we prefer the visual over the aural is presented by the absence of those elements. More people will readily choose silence (some crave it, actually) over darkness. Not that absolute silence OR darkness are easy to come by, but it is relative. Silence in contrast to sound is discernible. Some film makers have inserted blank screens as sort of visual "grand pauses." But even then, the darkness is confined to the screen.
In the end, there has to be room for both seeing and listening. But until people become more practiced listeners, the visual will often overcome the aural. So what does this mean for music?
In the case of film music, I don't think the relationship is exactly symbiotic, even if it is meant to be. If I show a student a film and ask him/her to describe it (outside of a music class context), rarely do I hear anything about the music. Sometimes, when asked about the music directly, students will have something to say, but most often they tell me they've got to "watch it" again. Many composers (of operas, of films, etc...) wind up writing suites of their scores. Ostensibly, this is because it gives the music some sort of form and context outside of the film or opera. But does it then become something different? I think about Corigliano's Red Violin for instance. I wish I could erase my memory of the movie (just once) so that I could listen to the suite without superimposing images from the movie. I feel enslaved to the visual. While I recognize that the original material was composed to accompany the visual, it seems that the visual is forever bound to the aural, even when presented in isolation (as with a concert suite). Maybe that isn't necessarily a bad thing (in the case of film music), but I for one, would like the option.

Ketchup (or "On the Value of Blogging")

2007-08-18T06:08:00.000-05:00

Ok, so that should be "catch-up" but I'm sure you will forgive my jet-lagged version of wit.

While I deleted a few of my blog feeds, I still came home to over 200 posts and was reluctant to delete them indiscriminately. This was a concern I had voiced before I left and it proved to be true. I have a feeling my reluctance to delete without reading is akin to the need I had, as a child, to stay awake all hours whenever my parents had a dinner party. I would creep out into the upstairs hallway, with my face pressed against the staircase railing, and strain my ears to hear conversations which I never understood in the first place. In the case of blogging, comprehension is not an issue, but I do wonder why I am so scared to "miss out."

One of the more relevant discussions to take place while I was busy working on my German Latin and eating healthy dishes like Somlauer Nockerl and Eispalatschinken, was the discourse about the value of the blogosphere. Drew started it (at least this round) over at Amusicology, and Phil Ford (Dial M) and Barnet Bound picked it up. I posted a response over at Dial M, but realized the converse of my argument also applies.

My general advocacy of the blogosphere is based on the lack of censure and the speed at which information can be relayed. I realize now, that my general complaint about the blogosphere is based on the lack of censure and the speed at which information can be relayed. Occasionally, ignorance may be bliss. Of the several hundred blog posts I've sorted upon my return, I'm fairly certain my life would continue in its generally positive direction without them. I am, however, still plagued by the fear of being a Johnny-Come-Lately. Just as I wouldn't dream of attending a AMS conference without having read the latest issue of JAMS (well...I might dream of it), I'm reticent to jump back in to blogging without knowing what has happened while I was ~~gaining umpteen pounds~~ singing in the Haydnsaal.

All the same, like various other projects that have been on hold for the last two weeks (dissertation, articles, job-hunting), I'm diving back in. I'm going to be giving a lot of thought to the value/dangers/benefits of blogging (thanks to the aforementioned blog authors) and look forward to your thoughts.

Ah, yes...and one more link for those of you who are GTD-minded: Why GTD will allow you not to use GTD on your summer vacation (my title).

Blogging Hiatus!

2007-07-29T19:28:00.000-05:00

I'll be singing (in the Chorus) for Haydn's Harmoniemesse and Die Schöpfung here.
Back in mid-August!

Tschüss!

50 Book Challenge #11 & #12: HP No. 7 and What is the What

2007-07-28T13:47:00.000-05:00

No. 11
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling (Scholastic, 2007)

In order to be "spoiler-free" this will be necessarily brief. Suffice to say, I felt this was one of the better books in the series. Rowling did a very good job of tying up most of the loose ends. I did feel she moved too quickly through the last parts of the book, breezing through points where I wished to linger. My harshest criticism of the book is the Epilogue--I found it incredibly juvenile (it brought Harry Potter back to the level of mundane chidren's literature) and unnecessary.

No. 12
What Is The What by Dave Eggers (McSweeney's, 2006).

To call this a "novel" might underestimate its truth and urgency. This is very much a work of non-fiction. The life of Valentino Achak Deng is representative of thousands upon thousands of lives in Sudan in its tales of struggle and oppression. While the book sensitively addresses a topic that is hurendous and heartbreaking in and of itself, the narration is not overly sentimentalized. Eggers and Deng weave in humor, joy, and small victories through the tragedies of the Lost Boys of Sudan.

Valentino Achak Deng is both evidence of the resiliency of the human spirit and a beacon of hope for the future. There are moments in the book that call us out of our comfortable existence, and there are moments when we recognize that from which we also seek refuge. It is a compelling read about the human condition and should be compulsory reading for anyone wishing to remain ignorant about the struggles of Africa. To ignore Sudan is to ignore humankind.

Edward Hopper at the MFA

2007-07-26T18:21:00.000-05:00

Edward Hopper has to be one of my all time favorite artists. The current exhibition at the Boston MFA is fantastic. In addition to what is arguably his most famous painting (Nighthawks, 1942), the museum hosts some of his very early works and some of his prints. Hopper was admired as a printmaker before he became known as a painter.

I was struck by the obvious maturation of Hopper's work. In music, we speak of the "mature style" and I sometimes feel this is unfair, as maturity, in both music and life, is a subjective concept. However, in spite of the subjectivity, we can usually agree that self-confidence is a sign of maturation. In Hopper's early work there is a sense that he is following a model, a pattern...he's painting how he is supposed to paint. As one moves into his works of the later twenties, he seems less afraid to admit shape...using watercolors almost as if they were oils, exploiting their capabilities for the opaque. In these paintings, the natural elements (such as background foliage) are given a more watery texture, whereas the solidity of man-made elements is emphasized.

I respect Hopper's eye. He isn't afraid to let tall edifices soar out of frame. While Uncle Jack's snapshots of the Eiffel Tower without its top don't quite cut it, Hopper manages to extend the idea beyond the page. We don't have to see all of the chimney in order to understand the roof.

The exhibit cited Hopper's interest in "vernacular architecture" as opposed to someone like Charles Sheeler, who, while somewhat similar stylistically, amplified the industrial (factories and the like). His paintings of lighthouses are especially exquisite...extraordinary, but not overly-romanticized.

Hopper's most intriguing paintings are those of women and couples (see Room in New York, 1932 pictured above). The sense of isolation is tangible, but not hopeless. In his famous New York Movie (1939), the usherette becomes the focus, not the movie or even those watching. Dimly illuminated by the aisle lights, we are pulled into her pensive daydreaming...the movie in her mind.

The very last painting in the exhibition chilled me for some reason...all the more ironic given that it is a painting of sunlight. Sun in an Empty Room, painted four years before he died, gave me such pause. Gone are the contemplative nudes and the estranged couples...only two elements remain...the room and light. There is a strong sense of geometry here. The three-dimensionality is subdued in favor of the demarcation of roles: shadow vs. light. The absent figures could occupy either type of space. It makes me want to seek out all of Hopper's figures to note where they stand, sit, or lounge. In the end, when we leave our rooms, the light and shadow remain. We are but visitors, with our hopes, dreams and burdens.

For Exceptional Theses Only...

2007-07-23T15:07:00.001-05:00

For those of you out there with mediocre and substandard theses...I'm afraid I don't know where to buy the paper. Do let us know if you find out...at the very least it should be cheaper.

In Memoriam: Jerry Hadley (1952-2007)

2007-07-18T20:32:00.000-05:00

Death is always sad. And sometimes it is tragic.
Sometimes we mourn the personal connection.
Sometimes we mourn the talent, and the fact we didn't know.
Sometimes we mourn an idea, a symbol.

But we always do mourn.

Jerry Hadley
Requiescat in pace.

Thank you for sharing your voice with me through hours and hours of dissertation work on Leonard Bernstein's Mass. You always helped me reconnect with the love of my labor. Thank you for your "Simple Song."

Now Listening: Leonard Bernstein's Mass--Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, dir. Kent Nagano, with Jerry Hadley as Celebrant. (Harmonia Mundi, 2004)

Because you never have a second chance...

2007-07-15T20:10:00.000-05:00

I've decided to start a weekly (maybe more) feature called First Impressions in New Listening (FINL*).

Ideally, every day I'd like to hear a piece of music I've never heard before. At the present time, that is probably not practical.

The music can be recently composed, relatively "new," or an older piece with which I'm unfamiliar. I'm going to write down my first impressions. Keep in mind they are exactly that--FIRST impressions, based on a single hearing, without a score. My commentary will reflect that which "jumps" out at me (if anything).

If you are familiar with the piece, feel free to leave your own impressions (first or otherwise) in the comments.

This week, we start off with something relatively local:

Pozzi Escot, Concerto for Piano and Orchestra or Chamber Orchestra (1982)
ALBUM: POLYUTTERANCES
Peformers: New England Conservatory Chamber Orchestra, cond. Tamara Brooks, with Randall Hodgkinson, piano.

More of a "concerto" in the sense of Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra, this mini-concerto (just under six minutes) of three movements could be a single movement.
The opening movement is the yin to the yang of the closing movement. The first movement draws out a motive in the trumpet, like musical taffy. The final movement takes a related motive, but squeezes it and condenses it in a rush to the finish. The piano makes rather abrupt statements, but at no time is there ever a sense that there is one soloist.
These outer movements flank an inner movement of a more obligatory inward nature...atmospheric strings (recalling Ligeti) punctuated by the piano. This slower middle movement is most revealing of the concerto conception.

I enjoyed this piece and will listen to it several times. The texture is dense, so there is much to be unearthed.

----------------------------------------------------
*The irony of the acronym is unintentional.

I've been tagged to ponder...

2007-07-13T14:17:00.000-05:00

Well, I consider myself tagged, for a meme, that is. Normally i wouldn't engage in such frivolity (stop laughing--all of you!), but because this one came from Barnet Bound, I feel I must oblige. Of course the fact that I've taken this long to do so is a clear indication of my inner struggle (sure, it is).

Like BB, I'll be limiting my selections to four. The first one is something I have pondered, and I suppose I still am. The other three are more current.

1. When Terminator is dubbed in Spanish, what happens to the line "Hasta la vista, baby"? Answer: Allegedly, the line becomes "Sayonara..." Can anyone confirm or deny?

2. Why does chocolate taste so vastly different in the UK (and Canada too!) than in the US? Answer: I've got my own ideas and opinions, of course, but here's what the NY Times had to say (just in case you tire of reading about the state of the world).

3. Why now, after moving thousands of miles away, do I have this incredible urge to visit The Presidio? Answer: Pure nostalgia.

4. Do they grant PhDs in Endurance? Leave your answer in the comments.

If you read this blog, consider yourself tagged and do what you will. (Yes, I break chain letters too...I know, I know.)

On Teaching (Part I)

2007-07-08T09:55:00.000-05:00

As someone who has taught and wants to continue to teach, when I read things like THIS it makes me terribly sad. While I know that particular example was meant as satire, it is not without a grain of truth. Academia seems to have a love-hate relationship with teaching. At some universities there is definitely more hate than love.

While I do not have vast years of experience, I do have a good sampling of different teaching environments...as a teaching assistant, as an instructor of my peers, as a lecturer for 300 students, as an instructor of record for 7 music majors at a small Christian liberal arts institution, and as an instructor for 25 non-music majors at the same institution. I have looked upon each of these opportunities as a learning experience. I hope that this does not change even when I have tenure somewhere.

I must say, I love the seminar model. While I have witnessed many wonderful lectures, my preference is for interaction...among the students and the professor. One of the best seminars I ever had was one where the professor gave an angle to the course with which he wasn't totally familiar. While "Women in Music of the Italian Renaissance" was a topic near and dear to his heart, we investigated some feminist theory which he admitted was a "stretch" for him. In the end, I think we ALL came out of it with more than if he had merely regurgitated the same syllabus of "standards" with which he was familiar.

I'm struck at how often a TAship has very little to do with merit and everything to do with financial aid. This is a huge disservice to the students and to the TA. I happen to think I've become a pretty great teacher, but I certainly didn't start out that way. When I was given my first TAship, I didn't even know what a TA was! I had never had a TA in undergrad. And there I was, expected to guide students who, in some cases, were merely a year behind me. I understand that first year TAships can't exactly be based on experience, so I'd revise my statement to say that continued TAships should be merit based. And merit? What does that mean?

The "merit" of teaching
Here are my top 5 indications of good teaching:

1. Never claiming perfection (but no self-deprecation either)
2. Willingness to learn
3. Seeing each class, no matter the subject, no matter how many times the course has been taught, as a new experience.
4. A student-centered model (as much as possible--difficult in large lecture classes).
5. A desire to teach in the first place (!) not just viewing it as an obligatory side-effect of being paid to do research.

So while it might be easy to fall into the cynicism expressed by the folks over at Rate Your Students (see first link), I'd much rather go the way of Barnet Bound.

Part II coming soon!

50 Book Challenge #10: Audacity of Hope

2007-07-05T13:54:00.000-05:00

50 Book Challenge #10: The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama (Crown Publishers, 2006) 362 pp.

This book demonstrates eloquence, understanding, and an intense passion for this country and what it should stand for. Obama writes beautifully, with focus, but with the intensity of someone who is anticipating the arguments before they've been made. And that isn't such a bad thing, particularly for someone who is running for President. He does, however, need a better editor. Obama relies too heavily on anecdotes and sometimes gets a tad formulaic in his presentation of each chapter. The points are made, but then at times, run into the ground by an overabundance of examples.

That aside, the book is very well-structured. He wisely ends with "Family" to leave the reader with the best impression of a man who isn't afraid to extol his wife's domestic and professional abilities, but without the sense of hero worship. He's not afraid to express his love in real terms or to admit the struggles in their marriage. It is in this final chapter than the anecdotes ring most true.

However, for those that believe Obama is too "green" to be President, I'd hold off until you read this book. He has a better understanding of history, law, politics and social justice than most people on Capitol Hill. He's managed to move forward (up?) in his career, but has always had one foot firmly planted in the neighborhoods of his constituents.

It is a shame that those who do not support Obama are unlikely to read this book, as it is a revealing portrait...not set on changing political views, but opening up an honest dialogue...a dialogue very much absent from current American politics.

Zen Habits

2007-07-01T10:43:00.000-05:00

Recently, I've started following Zen Habits and have found it to be a wonderful resource. Leo has started a new forum for us Zen Habits readers and I've signed up--specifically to participate in the monthly challenge.

For the month of July, you pick ONE goal you'd like to maintain (daily exercise, reading, eating right, etc...) and there is a thread where you can check in daily with the other folks participating in the challenge.

My goal for July? An hour of German every day. Starts today.

Teach to Learn

2007-06-22T09:39:00.000-05:00

Sir Peter Maxwell Davies offers a three-part work* with an extended coda. I can't say I agreedwith everything, but I am grateful that someone is speaking out in defense of classical music. While I think his speech meanders a bit (it seems to cover a lot in one sitting), there are some true pearls of wisdom. This one was buried in "Part I":

Teaching is an education for the teacher, too, for you learn far more than you teach.

Good. Someone gets it. Unfortunately, I think there are far too many teachers who believe they have stopped learning (aack--what reason to live then??). When I tell people I'm getting a PhD in Musicology, the next question is usually: "So, are you going to teach?" asked in a way that insinuates "Well, what else would you do?" It just so happens that yes, I am going to teach. And yes, I WANT to teach....not just as a means to finance my research, but because I'm not done learning.

*three-part, I believe, courtesy of the Guardian.
Thanks to Elaine Fine for the original notice.

More Dissertation Fun

2007-06-21T18:46:00.000-05:00

This blogpost will be short and perhaps completely boring to most people who read this blog.
You've been warned.

As I go through the task of pulling together the bits and pieces of minutiae in my dissertation, I think I can safely say this is my least favorite part. Checking citations, moving margins, and searching for typos is the most painful part of the whole process, even though it is "easy."

I'm proofreading, basically, and have discovered the following to be most helpful: reading aloud. I find, even though it is a document to be read, and not heard, not only do I catch typos and punctuation errors, but it is much easier to revise sentences that are either dull or overly lengthy. I imagine that it is the narration for a documentary, accompanied by pictures, interviews and soundclips. It makes total sense that the paper needs to sound right...I am, after all, a musician.

Of course, this is best practiced in solitude. I thankfully had a few hours of that today. Hey, at the very least, it is good practice should I need to seek employment doing voice-overs.

Nessun Dorma--Paul Potts

2007-06-14T07:10:00.000-05:00

How absurd is it that the most mythical, magical moment of this is Simon Cowell's smile?
I want to be skeptical and dismiss it all as hype, but I'd be lying. I got "goosepimples" too.
Thanks to Alex Ross for the original post!

A big hole in MassCore

2007-06-12T07:49:00.000-05:00

This is bad news for the Commonwealth, as far as I'm concerned. Why, in a state that is host to numerous conservatories and music schools, would there be no arts component in the core curriculum (MassCore)?

I get frustrated that we are still defending the value of the arts. It isn't as though the statistics don't exist--it is that no one wants to accept them. To accept them would mean changing the status quo and taking risks. It means throwing money in the direction of those forlorn painters, those stoned musicians, and those spacey actors!

Of course, I'm referring to stereotypes, but in a place where their contributions are valued so little, can we really blame them for being forlorn, stoned and spacey?

UPDATE: Some people get it.

Atlanta Journal-Constitution: Finale

2007-06-10T12:12:00.000-05:00

Alex Ross provides a conclusion to the recent rigamarole regarding the AJC and its "reorganization." Mistakes were clearly made--evidently Robert Spano's letter to the editor slipped through, thereby instigating the perception that the AJC was doing away with arts criticism.

Klibanoff takes aim at the Arts community for screaming "fire" when it was merely smoke from a candle. While I can see his point, I do understand why the arts community is on the defensive. It isn't as though support for the arts has been a huge priority for the government. Often "reorganization" means "reprioritization" and that can mean that the arts end up on the bottom of the list. But the AJC is not the federal government. Time will tell what this reorganization will mean. But I think we should watch very carefully. Healthy skepticism is important in a world where we all struggle for legitimacy--newspaper editors and musicians alike.

Diapasonic shopping!

2007-06-09T17:52:00.000-05:00

Wow! This has to beat the lazy showtunes on out-of-tune pianos I hear at Nordstrom's.

Many thanks to Lisa Hirsch for posting about it first!

Adding some GO to GTD :-)

2007-06-07T08:02:00.000-05:00

As most of you know, I'm always looking for ways to be better organized. For the most part, I subscribe to the Gettings Things Done (GTD) method. Unfortunately, I never took the time to sit down and think about how I might apply GTD to our move. As a result, I am sitting in the midst of chaos.

A recent post by awesome organizational/workflow consultant Matt Cornell gave me some more food for thought. In his wonderful review and summary of Getting Organized by Chris Crouch, Matt highlights several interesting features of the book.

My new personal favorite is the "MIT": The Most Important Thing (the term is courtesy of Gina Trapani at Lifehacker). The general idea is to determine what the MOST important thing is to accomplish for that day and do it first, even before an e-mail check (gasp!). Yes, yes, yes....I know. Blogging is not my MIT, but I figured I'd lay out the idea first. My MIT for today will be my inbox processing because it has simply become a huge burden. I can't focus and I cringe every time the mail comes because the stack is beginning to lean.

I quote from Matt's summary of Crouch here and interpolate my comments:

# His reasons we feel overwhelmed:

* You are setting unrealistic time frames for what you are trying to do.
I find my time frames are fine if I use them effectively (therein lies the problem)
* You are procrastinating too long.
Yes.
* You are spending too much time working on things that do not matter.
Only occasionally, as a form of procrastination.
* You are over-promising what you can do for someone.
No. I think I've finally conquered that one.
* You do not have the profound knowledge needed to do the task.
OH! That explains why my complete 6 volume history of the Mass isn't published yet!
* You do not know when and how to say No.
Again, getting better at that one. Graduate school is all about saying yes, yes, yes, so I am enjoying the freedom now to say no, no, no. At least for the time being. :-)

# He lists these causes of procrastination:

* Perfectionism - the paralyzing need to get it right the first time
Big, big problem for me. I hate drafts even though I know how necessary they are.
* Impulsiveness - taking on too many things to do and overloading yourself
Yep.
* Fear of failure - rather be seen as lacking in effort than ability
I do have a fear of failure, but it isn't that I'd rather be seen as lacking in effort.
* Perception of task - seems too hard or too boring
Occasionally.
* Uncertainty - not sure what to do
I tend to err on the other side. I make hasty decisions just to move forward but then have to go back because it was the wrong choice.

Now...off to process that inbox!

Journal-Constitution responds...

2007-05-30T11:56:00.000-05:00

This is a fair response to Robert Spano, but as Alex Ross points out it isn't exactly crystal clear if the newspaper is downsizing or, as they say, refocusing "staff resources on coverage of local rather than national arts." I'm all for the latter, but not at the sacrifice of good music criticism. Sometimes newspaper writers find themselves spread too thin, critics especially. It is, after all, hard to attend several concerts in a week, profile a local string quartet, and report on what's ahead.

It will be interesting to follow what happens with the AJC and to watch whether other newspapers go the same route.

Music-centered curriculum

2007-05-30T07:16:00.000-05:00

Malcolm adds: "Sometimes I use music to do my math. I'll think of adding quarter-notes, half-notes. I put my notes together as math."

Here is an article about a remarkable charter school in Boston that centers its curriculum around music. The children are learning how to play the violin, yes, but also discipline, social engagement, listening skills, etc. Yet, in many public schools around the country, music programs are being slashed and burned. That's because you can't measure what one learns from music in a standardized test. Sure, you could have them identify chord progressions and define musical terms, but you certainly can't measure the skills they will carry with them for the rest of their lives.

I wonder what would happen if we handed a violin to every child in every elementary school. I'm not naive enough to consider this a plan to save the world, but I do think it is time to invest in our children with renewed vigor...not by worrying about creating standards by which they should measure their achievement, but by helping them desire to achieve in the first place.

More on the Atlanta Journal-Constitution

2007-05-28T05:48:00.000-05:00

Hopefully, the increased attention in the blogosphere will help convince the Atlanta Journal-Constitution to save their arts reviews.

See Jonathan Bellman and Elaine Fine's blogs for more.

Arts criticism (good arts criticism, that is) has always had a symbiotic relationship with the arts themselves. Critics are important for feedback, yes, but they also represent something even more important: critical thinking. This is a mode of mental operation that is becoming outdated in American classrooms. Many children are fed through a system that rewards them for memorizing state capitals rather than creative problem-solving. If our society begins to throw away the best examples of criticism, we condone the spoon-feeding model of education. Indeed, the arts are emblems of individual expression and criticism too, so one might wonder if we are not headed toward disaster here. If an orchestra is no longer worth writing about...why is it worth paying for a ticket? My point isn't to formulate great apocalyptic scenarious, but to offer that this is a very slippery slope.

The Economic Impact of the Arts

2007-05-25T05:08:00.000-05:00

In a study released on May 22nd, Americans for the Arts made a case for the economic contribution of the non-profit arts and culture industry. This is important as many of the arguments for maintaining art and music programs in schools have been philosophical, not financial. The concept of "quality of life," while a noble thought, does not seem to resonate with a large segment of the American populace and many members of the government. If it did, global warming would be less of a battle, we'd be focused on the health and well-being of the children who are living as a priority over those unborn, and health care and poverty would be top priorities of any administration.

So, now we must speak in "important" terms.

• 5.7 million full-time equivalent jobs
• $104.2 billion in resident household income
• $7.9 billion in local government tax revenues
• $9.1 billion in state government tax revenues
• $12.6 billion in federal government tax revenues

The study can be found here. While quality of life is important to me, we best start translating our needs into economic terms for those who see the world spinning on a dollar.

Maybe someone should send it to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution which has already killed the staff book reviews and supposedly has plans to kill the staff positions for arts and music reviews. Read Robert Spano's letter at the website for the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and sign the petition.

Administrative Note

2007-05-23T10:19:00.000-05:00

As of today, I am making a distinction between my two blogs. My Live Journal blog will be for more personal, fluffy (and dare I say sometimes even frivolous) posts while this blog will be more substantive, focusing primarily on Music and Mayhem and not so much Miscellanea. For those of you who visit enough to care, you may want to adjust your RSS feeds accordingly.

Oh, and I reserve the right to cross-post whenever it so moves. :-)

Hope really DOES spring eternal...

2007-05-17T18:04:00.000-05:00

Maybe I'm getting more sentimental to counteract the effects of the weather here on the East Coast, but this particular blog post gave me the best kind of goosebumps. I've been following the trials of the OES after the terrible fire and I tell you, this is a true phoenix, risen from the ashes. I can't wait to hear them.

Well, THAT's unpacked!

2007-05-16T15:01:00.000-05:00

Four boxes marked: "Unpack quickly! Dissertation!" I'm just grateful I turned in all the library books before I left. Good times ahead. Probably means less blogging for a bit, but who knows?

On the Street Where You Live???

2007-05-16T10:21:00.000-05:00

Here in Boston and surrounding areas, there seems to be a city ordinance against street signs. Even our own street is unmarked which has already befuddled the Verizon repairman and the pizza delivery guy. It doesn't help that there is a sign for the street as it continues across the intersection--under a different name! I'm thinking one of my first little projects will be to make a nice little sign to replace the old one and then get a letter off to the Somerville City Council. At least they'll know I'm proactive.

So, as helpful as it is to have a Google Map with all the street names, it doesn't really help you at all once you are in the car. Even major intersections will be missing street signs. This brings me to my great idea:

I think there needs to be a Google Landmark Map...where navigation is done simply by landmarks and is updated frequently. While I know you can find various hotels, grocery stores, donut shops, etc on Google Maps, I'm suggesting that they be the primary indicators (the street names could stay just on the off chance they might be helpful to someone). So, if you needed to get to Whole Foods, lets say, the map would tell you to go around Union Square, pass one Dunkin' Donuts on your right, pass Inman Square and the All-Star Sandwich Shop, etc. I know they sell those touristy maps where all the historical landmarks, big shops, etc are drawn in, but those tend to have accuracy problems. That is why it would be so great to have an online version--especially with the way Dunkin' Donuts sprouts up out here!

Bigger is not always better...

2007-05-15T06:13:00.000-05:00

WARNING: Fluff post!

While I'm certainly not going to complain about having a bigger kitchen (and truth be told, I'll take it over our old one any day), I have to mention the design of this kitchen makes me think the cabinetry and drawers were a mere afterthought.

We have three drawers (four, if you count the one you can't open unless you open the oven first). Each of these drawers is fairly large (meaning: no real silverware drawer). Presently we have them categorized 1) big pots and stuff 2) baking ware, small mixing bowls, and my favorite, 3)scary utensils drawer. And the latter is scary in that there are knives facing every which way mixed in with our everyday silverware and salad tongs and carrot peelers and bag clips and...you get the picture. Some of the problem will be alleviated once we are able to hang our silverware again.

As for the cabinetry? Well, I can reach them (an improvement), but they are very deep, rendering the back of the cabinet somewhat useless. We also have two corner cabinets which will only be useful with multi-tiered turntables. In the rare instance we were able to find a tiered turntable, the diameter was way too small. We currently have two entirely too small turntables sitting in there with a bunch of stuff crammed around them. If you are going to build a corner cabinet...build a turntable that goes with it!

That, is the end of my kitchen rant for the day. Truly, I am excited about the dishwasher and the increased counter space. I just think it is funny that I actually miss something about my old kitchen (I never thought that would happen!)

I blog this to spare anyone from having to actually listen to me talk about kitchen cabinets.
(Cross-posted at LJ...those lucky folks)

New Meaning for the Boston "Pops"

2007-05-13T09:59:00.000-05:00

As I'm sure everyone knows by now, this past Wednesday's Boston Pops concert featured a brawl between a talker and a shusher in the second balcony. While most news features have capitalized on the incongruity between a brawl and a symphony concert, Jeremy Eichler's thoughtful review in the Globe asks some more important questions.

The audience that night was a mixed bag of Pops subscribers, benefit concert-goers, and Ben Folds fans--not the normal Symphony Hall makeup. In Eichler's opinion, the Pops could have better seized upon the opportunity with their programming of the first half. Instead of the ubiquitous Dvorak "Carnival" Overture, Eichler suggests:

"...a short, gnarly, and exhilarating work of 20th-century music, offering a quick glimpse of, say, the ecstatic washes of color in Messiaen, or the quivering extraterrestrial sound worlds of a Ligeti score?"

As an advocate of contemporary music, I give Eichler's suggestion a resounding "right on!" As a practical observer of concert audiences, however, I'm forced to note that the inclusion of such a piece would probably kill the "pops" ethos. But maybe therein lies the problem.

We tend to categorize and pigeonhole repertoire to such an extent there is little to no flexibility, even when the audience might afford the opportunity. We have "Early Music" concerts, "New Music" concerts, "Pops" concerts (that's where all the film music goes, folks!), and "Classics" concerts. In a recent article in the New Yorker, Alex Ross discusses how Esa-Pekka Salonen has tried valiantly to usher in contemporary music as part of the LA Phil's standard repertoire (with varying levels of success). Maybe the element of surprise should be more standard for concerts nowadays. Sure, reel the regulars in with a big seller, but have a couple of "TBAs" on the program. Vary it: a newly commissioned work (short), a film music suite, an oldie-but-a-goodie. I wonder what would happen if you had audiences coming to see one or two works, and being stretched just a little tiny bit.

It is truly hard to stand outside myself and speculate as to my reaction as a non-music specializing concertgoer. But I think that I'd be quite okay with hearing one or two of the Ligeti piano etudes, even if I came to hear the 1812 Overture or a medley of the best of John Williams. Idealistic? Maybe. Optimistic? Assuredly.

(Cross-posted at LiveJournal)

We're here!

2007-05-12T08:55:00.000-05:00

Well, our lack of DSL means no pictures for another couple of days, but I thought I'd post a little bit of our Boston experiences thus far.

Our phone jack was not working when we arrived, and this of course spelled disaster for me--not for the phone, but for the computer (of course). So we called Verizon (and I mean "we" as it took several calls) and the repairman came out to look at it (we already tested the connection in the Network Internface Device (NID) on the side of the house).

No, I don't plan to detail the excitement of having a phone jack tested, but I did have an interesting exchange with Mr. Verizon Man. After asking about where we had moved from, I replied "California." Response: "Hmm. Whereabouts in California?" I told him Santa Barbara. "Is that near San Diego, like Southern California?" I told him we are considered "Central Coast" (as if that would save me from some sort of disparaging comment).

What was tremendously funny and tender to me was that he looked me straight in the eye and said, with all sincerity ,"It's a whole different ballpark with the people out here, eh? Don't make it nothing personal. They're just like that." I'm not sure where he was from, but I thought I detected a southern inflection to his speech. But I think he was genuinely concerned that my happy-go-lucky California self might be offended by all the cranky Bostonians.

So that brings me to stereotypes. Clearly this man had an idea that all Californians act like Shirley Temple on the Good Ship Lollypop while all Bostonians make Severus Snape look downright ecstatic. While we have run into a few Snapes, most of the Bostonians we've met have been, while not cheery, friendly enough and "no b.s." I think places with harsh weather conditions give birth to a practicality about life that we don't see so often in "Paradise." There is a economy of energy for social niceties. That said, we've run into plenty of folks willing to spare a "hello" as we pass through the neighborhood.

So, so far so good. We successfully visited our Trader Joe's, local supermarket and local KMart, so life can go on.

Picture Post

2007-05-11T14:19:00.000-05:00

So, I know I didn't blog about the rest of our trip, so I thought I'd quickly summarize with this picture post. Yes, those blurry spots you see are dead insects on the windshield, of course.

Denver 5-2 to 5-4

2007-05-04T23:22:00.000-05:00

Ok, well technically, Thornton, but close enough. Our drive to Colorado was absolutely spectacular. While I'm sure the residents of the area take those Rocky Mts. for granted, I couldn't snap enough photos of their majesty.

Rocky Mountain High

The drive from Utah gave me the opportunity to practice my mountain driving at a 6% grade...not something I had the chance to do in Santa Barbara. I'm actually ok with not doing it very often.

I almost wish we had stopped at this particular rest stop...very tempting:

Thanks for the gracious hospitality of my college roomate and her husband, we stayed in a lovely house with lovely people in Thornton, CO. Happy to have a break from driving, we spent a good portion of the day in Boulder at the Pearl Street Mall. I could not stop photographing the tulips. Spring had most definitely sprung!

We had such a nice visit with K and G and their cutie-pie of a son! (Shout-out to Bixby! ;-))

Now, we are in our second time zone change. The drive to Kansas City, MO was, well...mind-numbingly boring. Even throwing in some more cows would have helped...but the topography was...non-existent. I wasn't expecting much, so I guess I wasn't that disappointed. I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised as I was with my first visit to Kansas City, MO. We are staying in the same hotel I stayed in for last year's visit to the Creston archive. It's a quick stay because we are out of here tomorrow and on our way to someplace near Chicago! After tomorrow, most of our drives will be 8 hours or less I believe. This makes me happy.

Zion National Park 5-1-07

2007-05-03T10:17:00.001-05:00

Although it might seem glib to say that Zion National Park is the Grand Canyon turned upside down, those of you who know what the Grand Canyon means to me, will understand that this is not just a comment about the topography.

While we saw amazing rock facings at the GC last summer, they pale in comparison to Zion. My pictures won't do it justice, but I've selected a few. Like at the GC, I felt dwarfed, but this time, the huge walls of Navajo sandstone were almost comforting...as if we were simply nestled in the canyon.

But the neatest element of our Zion experience was the contrast of water with the semi-arid climate. Life was so very abundant. Even the rocks seem to be alive. It makes perfect sense why native American mythology is filled with stories about living mountains.

Springdale, which lies just at the foot of the park, runs a shuttle up to the park which is amazingly convenient and so much better than the situation prior to 2000, when cars and trucks could drive all the way up. Being a weekday, the park was very quiet and for the first couple of hours we saw very few people. We got up to the park about 8:30 and decided to tackle the Emerald Pools (a far more elegant name than the Algae Pools, which would be more accurate). The "hike" was rather moderate and even paved in some areas. The lowest of the three pools was the most beautiful, and the largest. The springline from the mountains create temporary waterfalls which sprinkle down and create these gorgeous and calming pools. On our way back down, we began to see more people which made us grateful that we had hit this most popular trail very early on.

After a brief snack and a visit to a gift shop, we went on the "Riverwalk." It was fairly clear that we were tuckered out from the last few weeks and it was starting to catch up with us. The "River Walk" is a very easy pleasant walk along the Virgin River toward the place where the canyon narrows. One of the highlights was having this guy close enough to touch:

We watched a fairly cheesy but informative 22 minute film on Zion NP and then took the shuttle back to the hotel. There is so much more we'd like to do, but it is going to have to wait for another trip. I'm assuming I'll find my energy again sometime in September.

I seem to have this knack for visiting national parks immediately after a significant loss. And I always find the experience incredibly healing. I know this must mean something. Hopefully I'm not missing my true calling as a park ranger...

Vegas, baby.

2007-05-01T00:27:00.000-05:00

Four states in one day...not too shabby! Ok, so we basically cut the northeast corner of Arizona, but I'm going to let that count.

We hit the most important spot on the way to Vegas: The Mad Greek in Baker, California. I'm fairly sure there isn't a whole lot more in Baker, CA than the alleged "best gyro in the U.S.A." While the schlock factor was pretty high, we figured it was preparatory kitsch for Las Vegas. I have to say, the fresh strawberry shake was perfect since it was hotter than hell....I mean, Hades.

After our fill of Dionysian pleasures, we headed to Vegas. Our "trip to Vegas" probably registers a high "10" on the great scale of "lameness" but I don't care. After driving down the strip, we finally decided to park at the Luxor (covered parking lot) and check it out. We spent a total of $2 on the slot machines and came out with $2 less. I had a San Pellegrino and H had an iced tea. While I'm sure Vegas is much more exciting at night (and I'd actually like to go back with a few girlfriends), it really didn't do too much for me. I intellectually understand how gambling could be an addiction, but it really doesn't appeal to me. Of course daytime weekdays at casinos usually host the "regulars" who sit in front of the slot machines, their eyes glazed over...where they go, I don't know. All that said, it was pretty amazing to be in a place where people wander around spending money, losing money, making money and all with open beer bottles in their hands. I do regret not going in the evening so I could have seen things like the Bellagio fountains, so recommended by Barnet Bound. But Mandalay Bay and the Luxor were good enough samplings.

We rolled into Springdale, UT at around 8:30pm. We had an awesome dinner at the Spotted Dog Cafe (which was actually a rather elegant restaurant). Of course, with my sunflower seed-encrusted local trout, I felt obliged to try the local brew. And since this is Utah, that would be:

(Actually that's just what was on the glass...I had a local medium ale).

Tomorrow, Zion National Park!

Los Angeles 4/27 to 4/30

2007-04-29T19:41:00.000-05:00

Stop One: Los Angeles

Home. Strange concept. Born and raised in LA, yet I feel very little attachment to it. In four years, Claremont felt more like "home" than Los Angeles ever did (and yes, I know lots of people who consider Claremont part of Los Angeles). But here I am referring to the city. Disregard these comments when we talk about my mother's house...that is "home" or at least what "home" means in this transitional stage of my life.

Home is where I can do laundry for free. Home is where I get fed and can sleep for free. Home is where I get hugs from my mother. Home is where my stepdad makes me a martini at the end of a very long day.

I have yet to start my "vacation." Today I pulled together a brand new cover letter (third job opportunity at the same institution demands originality). My mother just happened to have some beautiful linen ivory stock on hand so that was absolutely fortuitous. Our printer ran out of black ink (yes, we brought our printer with us!) so again, mom came to the rescue and I used hers. I updated my c.v. and will send it out to the dossier service tomorrow. These are all tasks I had not anticipated worrying about on my trip. But, opportunity, I realize, is RARELY convenient.

Part of me feels that we should have spent the weekend doing "LA" things. As it was, we did hit the first Trader Joe's that ever was (in Pasadena). I suppose that counts. But most of the weekend was spent revising the rest of our trip, pulling my job application together, shipping a box of stuff off to Somerville, and figuring out how to repack the car.

On the other hand, I did read an entire mystery novel from cover to cover--something I haven't done in a VERY long time. Well worth it. It was Peter Tremayne's Act of Mercy (1999). My mother and I both enjoy his Sister Fidelma series...what could be cooler than a 7th-c mystery-solving Irish nun?

And we're off...

2007-04-28T15:08:00.000-05:00

Well, it did happen. The VERY LARGE semi did come and did pick up all our stuff. We packed the car up and headed down to Los Angeles.

But, not without complications (of course!)

Turns out Allied (corporate) vetoed our request for a preferred delivery date of May 12th (AFTER we had signed our agreement for the date of 5/12). Corporate didn't tell our sales rep and our sales rep didn't follow up with corporate. SO, our driver shows up with his semi and says "Alright, so we're dropping off in Boston on the 9th." Say WHAT????

So, guess who gets to cut their vacation short?

Evidently, "corporate" also didn't communicate that our apartment was on the second floor--so the stairs were a bit of a surprise to our driver and his brother (the only two movers).

But, after a very very very long day, we saw our stuff go off on the truck and oddly enough, I felt relieved. You might think watching all your worldly possessions disappear with a man you've only known for less than 24 hours might be unsettling, but at that point, I basically just wanted it to "go away." The scary part was all that was left in our apartment.

We didn't leave SB the next day until 7pm (which was ok because we missed Friday night rush hour). By some miracle (basically called Deetie and Hubby) we fit just about everything into Guinevere (our Volvo). We gave away everything we could and threw away a few items we might not have otherwise, and we were off.

We barely would have made our truck deadline if it weren't for JDT and DM who spent a good portion of the weekend AND the night before helping pack up all our stuff (which I still contend was procreating when we weren't looking).

Yesterday was hard. Goodbyes are terrible. I'm sure it will REALLY hit me once we leave California. But when we arrived in LA yesterday, my stepdad made us martinis as we unloaded the car and I could tell that I was already feeling seriously blah.

My time in SB defines the quintessential "love-hate relationship." I've got a lot to sort out in the coming weeks.

When packing gets boring

2007-04-22T23:38:00.000-05:00

This is what I start doing to the boxes when packing just gets too humdrum. I'm SURE the movers will appreciate my efforts.

Actually, now that I think about it "Books & Bottles" is the perfect alliterative title for my dream enterprise: A Bookstore Bar!

Microsoft does Mona

2007-04-21T10:58:00.000-05:00

I find this frightening and astonishing at the same time. I also note the appropriation of "Kyrie eleison" in the soundtrack for future reference. (Eventually I will stop viewing the world through the lens of my dissertation...right?)

Goodbyes

2007-04-20T16:25:00.003-05:00

In a month filled with goodbyes, I've just had two really hard ones in the last week. The permanency of those is hard to reconcile.

But life is full of goodbyes--constantly. Sometimes we say goodbye to ourselves, shed the old us for a new version. That brings me to yesterday's horoscope:

You appear to have all the requisite tools to remodel those aspects of your life that, according to you, need it most. What more is there to say but go for it?

Well, I'm going for it, that's for sure. But I'm taking some luggage with me (luggage--not baggage). Mementos are important...even the non-tangible ones.

It well may be
That we will never meet again
But in this lifetime
Let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I've learned from you
You'll be with me,
Like a handprint on my heart

(from Wicked)