Putting the brain back to work

In response to two questioners: No, I was not whining about the Gunther Schuller piece in my previous post. I was whining about a completely different piece, which I shall have to perform in the near future. It's a great piece, but it seems that the performance will not be up to par.

On another topic: My brain hurts. Yup, it's not been getting much use lately, so it may be taking some time to work out the kinks. I spent the better part of the evening analyzing the Schuller piece. It seems that I have found 3 more mistakes in the part as printed. Only two of the mistakes seem to clearly be typesetting errors. The other two are far more interesting. You'll have to wait for the paper for the details. (Ha ha...split infinitive...Live with it.)

If you didn't catch it, PBS showed Part 1 of a documentary on the Mormon faith this evening. It was really quite interesting, and not just because of the gold plates and many wives. I'm ashamed that I didn't know the history of the Mormons' persecution in NY, Missouri, and Illinois...Hell, everywhere...I've already decided that I'll be rescheduling tomorrow night's planned debauchery so that I can catch Part 2. Now that I've been witness to the heathen-izing of two Mormons, I figure I ought to know more about the people that'll be carrying the pitchforks and torches when the time comes.

Running Music: Random Top40 radio. iPod battery was empty. Boo.

Open Casket

RIP - You were such a powerful piece. So many clever little moments. So many places for showing a little love, as it were. Your composer wants us to be superhuman, but I'm afraid that it will be a gaggle of sad little mortals who slaughter you unknowingly. You have such wonderful differences between Forte and Fortissimo. Staccato, tenuto, or various combinations used so carefully and astutely. Don't worry...They'll be ignored. Instead, your name will be used as support for going expressly against your intentions. For what sins will be committed against you, I am truly sorry.

Maybe next time.

Oh yeah....

I've found a wrong note in a more than 20-year-old Gunther Schuller piece. Yay...Not that it's schadenfreude for Gunther, but I'm happy that I found it. How did I find it, you may ask? Through nerdification. Yup, my pattern recognition and matrix writing habit helped me out this evening while sitting in Starbucks. I hope that I'm right...If I'm not, then the piece is even more interesting than I had thought. I'm only a 1/4 of the way through the piece, so I may find more.

Okay, back to Coast to Coast with not-Art-Bell.

Dies Irae

This evening's adventure was a performance by the Yale Symphony of Britten's War Requiem. Now, it was the first time that I've heard the piece in its entirety and the first live performance I've heard of any of it. It's a fantastic piece. I might even say that it's a masterwork. In particular, the children's chorus manages to interject it's simplistic, idealistic material as heart-breakingly as possible. Even I, a hardened schmuck with little patience for those around me, literally teared up during the last movement as the dying soldier's simple statements were juxtaposed against the heartfelt, innocent, even enlightening pleas from the children's chorus.

Apparently, during the first performance, one of the soloists wept. I can imagine why. The Latin Requiem text jars against the soloists' nearly common text.

I'm fortunate that I heard this piece today, sitting alone in the second balcony of Symphony Hall, able to read and hear the text with clarity.

Some good clarinet playing, but especially good work from the Tenor, whose name I'm too lazy to look up. He's on the Yale faculty, so that should be enough. He's wonderful.

Tomorrow: on to Beethoven's 5th Symphonay and a little Poulenc.

I hope that my evening's libations have prepared me.

The Other Side of the Tracks

Tonight I ventured out of the practice hovel to catch Alvin Ailey do their dance thing over at the Wang Theatre. Thanks to Karen and Marie.

Here's the rundown:

The River - chor. Alvin Ailey

Good, but not stunning. Frankly, nothing in the evening was stunning throughout, but that's a tall order. The lighting decisions in this one were quite well done. The score, by Duke Ellington, was awfully good, but not always well-played by the orchestra on the recording. There were some stunning moments by individuals.

There's an awfully clever scene with a soloist plus company {Riba (Mainstream), I think...} that takes fun jabs at ballet and the regimentation found therein. His interaction with those in the line was quite smart. When he danced with the line, he always had his own less rigid version of the choreography. Brilliant.


The Golden Section - chor Twyla Tharp

This one actually managed to hold my attention throughout. That could be due to its high energy content, but I think some of it is also due to the increased focus from the dancers. David Byrne's music was also quite a pleasure to hear. Keep an eye out for some fantastic jumps and catches.

Revelations - chor Alvin Ailey

Back when this was choreographed (1960), the newness alone probably provide the energy necessary to launch the piece into the audience. These days, the spirituals that comprise the soundtrack are more in the public's ear and less initially moving, I think. The choreography is certainly well done, but infrequently horribly complex (especially considering the piece immediately prior). Such a piece, in my not-so-humble opinion, requires absolute focus and complete investment from the performer. This performance just didn't have either.

Yes, there were moments where the energy level rose to a level the piece needs. Amos J. Machanic, Jr., in fact, sold "I Wanna Be Ready" lock, stock, and barrel. In fact, I'd buy another right now. The investment from the performers seemed to be lower on the larger company numbers. They seemed to be energized only during the small encore. Perhaps because they were going home?

It must be difficult to perform the same repertoire year after year. I'm sure that I'll run into this myself, but I haven't run anything into the ground yet. I'm still excited when I see Beethoven 9 on a schedule. Due to my experience playing the piece, I'm more apprehensive about physical exhaustion than I am about being able to give it the proper focus. Hopefully I can revisit this same question in 30 years and still say that I'm excited about my 20th cycle of Tchaikovsky 5 or Pictures at an Exhibition.

Something I noticed tonight: At no point did the choreography venture into the ugly. This is an are that we hear in music from this era (roughly 1960-1983), but I didn't see anything objectionable in these three pieces. I saw times of turbulence, but nothing that veered into the unpleasant. Is this just because of the specific program of the evening? I'm sure that someone, somewhere is choreographing some of the ugliness that we see and feel in our lives. Is a company like Ailey helping to bring forth that kind of art too? Some people only want art to bring them the beautiful to escape from the ugly. Do City Ballet, Ballet Theatre, Boston Ballet, and numerous other companies feel this way? How about their Boards of Directors? I wonder if they'd let an Artistic Director get away with much grit in a season.

Between tonight's diatribe and editing a friend's bio over the phone, I'm tapped out. Goodnight Cleveland.

Self-Satisfied Schmuck

Apparently my posts can be a bit impenetrable at times. Well thbbtt! to you too.

I had one of those days today where I felt that I should probably call up all my old teachers and play for them over the phone. I could say things like "See! It took me a while, but I finally figured it out. I really was paying attention. " Now let's see what tomorrow is like. Crest, meet Trough. Trough, meet Crest.

When it rains, it pours. More work swinging my way this today. Nothing I can't handle easily. I already know how I'll spend the money. In fact, maybe I've already spent it.

Feeling ill tonight. I got back into the dizzy swing of things. That stinks. Took my little pills, so hopefully tomorrow will be better. In the meantime, I'm going to polish off a Wired Mag. from March and go to bed early. Even my stomach is in on it this time. Bastards...

Welcome to Jordan Hall. Would you like your molestation super-sized?

Stagecrew at Jordan Hall after an evening losing at the craps tables at Foxwoods. These were the only jackets they could afford after they lost the ones they took. Will Move Pianos for Food.

Rambling again...

Running music: the recurring sound of my own wheezing and whimpering as I feebly attempted to take on what would have been a piece of cake even 5 months ago. Instead, I barely managed to drag my frame back to my house and my waiting shame.

Not waiting for me was my Beethoven 5 score. Where the hell did I put that thing? Doesn't it know to stay accessible, like the rest of his symphonies?

HJ, how was the recital?

Heard something horrific today as I drove back from a little money earning adventure: Fergie singing something about Big Girls not crying. I almost switched to Savage Nation...I can't decide which of the two is a bigger blight on the earth.

I'm in the middle of exhaustive Google searches so I can get a better idea on whether or not my paper ideas have legs. Yay Google. Next I'll have to hit Google Scholar, I guess. But first, I want some chocolate. Too bad I don't have any in the house. It's like a smoker getting rid of all of the hidden cig. packs. I'm deep into withdrawal. I could go for a good veal parm. as well. Veal parm and a boatload of chocolate, anyone?

Lurker Revealed!

The DOE lurker revealed herself via email. Hi Brandy and welcome. Leave comments where applicable...or where not applicable. Just feel free to spout off. I certainly do. As you may have noticed, there are at least 2 others who occasionally get mouthy. I encourage it.

What's the DOE's official stance on a (admittedly giant) Tesla coil being used as a personal security system?

Now I must go to bed. Lots o' musicking to be done tomorrow.

The Game that Dare Not Speak Its Name

The Pass line is the path to Hell, I'm sure of it. Never again.

On the other hand, I'm right back into the swing of things with crazy amounts of clarinet playing. I've got to brush off the 2nd movement of the Stravinsky 3 Pieces. It's amazing how difficult it is if you play it precisely as written. The tempo and rhythms are hell-bent-for-leather. I guess that's probably why absolutely no one bothers to record it that way. Will I sound like a candidate for the short bus if I'm the only one playing the ink? Screw 'em.

Gotta tray and start sounding awfully pretty once again. It's a never ending struggle, I guess. Wouldn't it just be easier if we had to sound out of tune and unpleasant to the ear? Someone see what they can do about that, eh?

Oh yes: Play well Monday night, HJ. I'm sure it will be great. Once you're a doctor, you'll get to operate on people!

Recording Practice

For most musicians, recording one's practice time can be an immense help...an eye-opener really. All of those little things you think no one will hear, you hear loud and clear on a recording. The first recording I ever made used my parents' stereo in our den. I remember having to announce each piece before I played it (no editing!) and only doing a few takes of each piece. Of course, I had to use complete takes. The sound of my voice was shocking to my ears as I mispronounced Adagio. My Dad caught my mangling of the word, but I insisted I was correct. Thankfully, that recording is no longer extant.

Over the years, I've made recordings using tape recorders, mini cassette recorders (the 1/2 speed function on these machines provide me with many an hour of mania), mini discs, and my laptop.

The thought of sitting down and committing to history a recording of me playing was horrifying. In the beginning, the first few takes of any piece usually ground to a halt as I got used to the mic pointing at me, much like a bazooka. Frankly, at least the bazooka's effects would be washed away with time. Once a recording is made, there's always a chance it could be released to the public. (Look what happened to Harold Wright, after all. What if those recordings were the only ones we had to tell us of his playing? Oy. )

These days, the first take is usually the best one. It's usually got the vitality the piece needs as well as a lack of little glitches. As I continue to play through takes, those areas where I focus get better, but other areas feel the effects of my tension and frustration. Imprecise articulations, sloppy legato, and slipshod rhythm are usually the gremlins that sneak in. Of course, I'm most famous (amongst my own multiple personalities...) for getting a tone that is more and more grating and unfocused as the day's recordings go on. That is no longer the case.

All of this little background is just a preamble to me saying how pleased with myself I am. Over the last week or so, I've taken my practice time and used it to record a few excerpts. (If you must know: Beethoven 6: I; Brahms 3: II; Scheherezade cadenza; Capriccio Espagnol: I, III; Mendelssohn Scherzo; Prokofiev 5: IV; Prokofiev Peter and the Wolf. On the whole, I'm just tickled pink (to use a phrase blatantly stolen from my Grandmaternal and Maternal Units) with the results. Although I'm just using a small, cheapish microphone and open-source recording software, the quality of the performance actually sounds good. I'm especially happy with some of those excerpts with which I've had so much trouble in the past.

This is all called progress, right?

Now...gotta find some more long-term work, eh?

Another one in the can...

Somehow that sounds...inappropriate. Perhaps I just hang out with the wrong people. They're causing me to become a horrible person. I'm used to hearing that phrase while recording, but it sounds strange out in the wild.

So, I spent the weekend (you know you're in the entertainment business when the weekend stretches from Friday to Tuesday) playing the clarinet very well. Yes, I know what you're thinking...That's a fine weekend. However, it's also a tiring weekend...and it was in DC.

After my clarinet duties were taken care of, I was picked up at a train stop and treated to a grand meal in Annandale: Korean style sashimi and varying other goodies. I, of course, ate like a man possessed. Ever seen Myazaki's Spirited Away? Well, I was eating very much as the parents-turn-piggies were near the start of the movie. Thankfully, no giant-headed grandmothers enslaved me, but I was still pretty immobile from the food.

After being immobilized, I spent the next 5-ish hours editing a paper for a friend's doctoral requirements. Holy crap...I'm not used to thinking, especially not in complete sentences. Somehow, I was even starting to be a bit hungry by the end of the evening/morning. My friend was appropriately appalled at my body's ability to digest such disgustingly large amounts of food.

Oh, by the way: Hello HJ! Don't think I can't see you just because I don't know your service provider. Your lack of an obvious trail is in itself an obvious trail.

So, I've been thinking again about Doctoral programs for myself. I've found one that is VERY attractive, but I'm going to look around at some others. The differences between a DMA and a PhD are quite vast. Sadly, most schools with good teachers don't have a PhD, but instead focus on the performance heavy (read: academically pitiful) Doctorate of Musical Arts. There are a precious few places I can get a real, research and performance oriented PhD. Of course, then I have to take into account the teacher. Damnit...there I go again, trying to think.

(Considering my dislike of thought, my research papers will be a real pain in the ass this summer.)

Thinking is hard when you've been recording all day. The stress gets to you after a while. The cat sitting next to me seems not at all stressed, what with his spine being all bendy and his legs splaying out in all directions.

Tomorrow I have to: 1) get up at a reasonable hour 2) finish my damned recording 3) figure out my travel plans for the next 3-4 weeks. They're getting complicated. Boo. Anyone want to be my unpaid personal assistant? I hate dealing with this crap.

Can We Write This Off?

Okay, so I went on a little trip Wednesday night. Some friends and I decide to gamble our troubles away in as cheap a way as possible. I'm pretty sure that we were the most hated people at Foxwoods that evening as we only played very low limit tables. Mostly, we just sat at the low limit roulette table play the minimums every spin.

After a very long evening, we returned to Boston the next morning in time for several of us to work the morning shifts at their respective jobs.



This would be most of the group: (from left) Rob, Heather, Marie's right arm (look in the rearview mirror for her eyes), Erica (sometimes referred to as Heather), and Eric. There's a Mike on the far, far, out the picture left. This photo is taken while everyone still has their money.

This picture was taken after everyone gambled. There's Mike on the far right. Everyone in the front row lost money, because they're losers. The guy in the back center made about 100. He was the big winner of the evening.

I, of course, won as well, but not quite as impressively. I made $4. Because I was hungry, I spent half of my winnings on a blueberry muffin. It was a good muffin.

Eric and I were the only one's who stuck to the strategy of the evening: Don't lose money. Everyone else chickened out and went with the alternative: "Throw your money down the toilet." Slackers. Bet they wish they had a blueberry muffin.

As everyone in the car (That's a very loose term, "car." This was more of a tank. It got about as many miles to the gallon as your average Boeing product.) worked at the same place (except for me...I was emeritus.), we're all wondering if we can figure out a way to have this be a business expense. Any ideas?

Well, tomorrow I go back out of town for clarinetting. I'll be gone for about 4 days total, but should enjoy myself immensely. In addition to my own stuff, I get to see a friend perform a concerto with his ensemble. I'll see if I can't provide a review when I get back. We'll see if I even remember.

Since transit time is LONG tomorrow, I'll be taking my laptop along to take car of other business. I've still got to schedule out the next few trips and how I'm going to ever get the repertoire learned and at its peak at the right time. I've also got a few movies to take with me. Salman Rushdie may also keep me occupied.

Later yo's.

Pre-Post Post

I have at least a couple posts worth of stuff to put here, but I'm only taking a few minutes from screaming incoherently at my reeds to give you a heads up that I'll post some pics and rambling either tonight or tomorrow. If I can figure out how, I might even post a video or two. I think that I may have figured out how, but it'll take a little trial and error. In the meantime, back to screaming horrible things at my reeds and...my mouthpiece.

"Why So Crazy (more than usual)?" you ask?

So here's the thing. No matter how well you know some music, it's always difficult when you've got to play alot of differing repertoire in a short amount of time. It's bad enough when you're playing in an ensemble, but it's a little more stressful when you're playing all by yourself. Of course, since you don't have the rehearsal process to help provide feedback on how you're playing, you just have to rely on how it feels, how your recorded practice sounds, and (if possible) what your colleagues tell you when you drag them into a practice room.

My response? This evening I tried to sit down and create a day-to-day to-do list for the next few weeks. I didn't get very far. Since I've also got to put a cd together over that time, I've also got to factor that in. Sadly, as the repertoire I've got to learn, perform, and record is all quite varied, I'm even going to have to plan out exactly what I'm practicing/recording on a given day just to make sure I get it all done in time. If I'm smart, I'll try to plan for a bit of free space in each session so I can take care of any problems that pop up. There won't be much extra time, I'm sure. Frankly, I don't think I'll have much extra stamina for more than is absolutely necessary.

I didn't feel too bad about not finishing my schedule tonight as I did finish other paperwork that I must email out tomorrow. (I love being able to edit .pdf files.) Also, nearly my entire day tomorrow will be consumed by Strauss, so I won't have alot of lip left for practicing that much. I can figure out my schedule between floggings...er...the rehearsal and concert.

I think I let myself get stuck in playing some old ugly reeds. Yuck. They're old....and ugly. Thank the FSM I have some others already in the system. I hope that's reason I've sounded like poo the past 2 days. My sound is quite ragged, rattling almost. It's too reedy and dry, but still in tune. In the past, such a problem could be the result of poor breathing habits or reeds. Right now, I'm praying that it's reeds. I love to be able to blame these things on reeds. Discovering basic breathing/embouchure problems really makes me feel like a doofus.

One of my most frustrating problems is my penchant for letting good habits slip and bad ones slip in. Nothing in my playing is so ingrained that it doesn't need constant vigilance. Pitch/Rhythm/tone/breathing/technique: all are suspect if I don't work on them daily. As I am not always organized about my practice session, sometimes these things slip more than they should. Hm...is this paragraph what a therapist would refer to as a "breakthrough"? Crap...now I've got to go and remedy my everyday practice sessions. Damnit... That's what I get for being self-aware.

One bit of solace: I'm daily trying to correct problems that I hear uncorrected in players every day. Does it make me feel better? Not much.

Awesome-osity.

Saw Grindhouse tonight. Rodriguez's flick had me actually crying with its hilarity. Actual tears. Tarantino's flick had sustained audience applause at the end/climax. This double-feature is the best money I've spent on entertainment in a while. It's so entertaining I may go see it again. See it in the theatre, damnit. It's worth it. These guys deserve your hard-earned money.

Next project: DC trip and Japan business...sooner or later I'll get around to setting up the Korean imports too. Oy. It's just that there's so much practicing to do.

To bring this to topic: the sax playing in the movie was plentiful and...er...grindy. So there...

Compline

The FSM is a kind ruler! It gives me a life of plenty! We must praise It for delivering Korea House from certain death in Chinatown and removing it to Brighton, where it is closer and just as stomach-pleasing. All hail the FSM!

We all float down here!

Let the Games Begin!

Blech...tomorrow promises to be a fairly tiring day as well. Why is it that I constantly return to the subject of being tired on this blog? Perhaps I should pick up a coke habit. I'm sure that would certainly handle any issues with being tired. Of course, then I'd have another small problem...nosebleeds.

It's nice that I'll get most of my now-standard practice time tomorrow, but then I've got to go to a long afternoon rehearsal packed with Strauss. Richard, not Johann...Richard always seems to be trying to tie up my pinkies while causing me brain damage from true Fortissimos. Oh well...comes with the job, I guess.

Of course, since I'm not at all bright, I've got to come home from rehearsal and then jump into a car for a couple of hours. I should get to my destination by 9 or 10pm and then pass out. Of course, I've got about a 6am wakeup the next day, with fantastic playing shortly after that. Let's hope for a very long Friday of fantastic playing, eh?

Oh, by the way, welcome to JC from MD. Nice of you to drop in. Please leave comments. I've also got a new-ish mystery reader, but I'm fairly sure that's it's a former regular under a different guise. Boo (as in a ghost rather than an unhappy audience).

Check-Up

Exhuasted again today. I got up as ass o'clock this morning and spent all day playing the horn. At least it's an honest exhuastion, not one brought about by spending too much time watching CSI OnDemand.

As I mentioned before, I'm playing some of my upcoming repertoire for friends an colleagues in anticipation of my upcoming crazy April. The first meeting of the day went pretty well, with a few reminders of where I need to focus my attention over the next few days. The 2nd meeting, with 2 other clarinetists, just sounded like tons o' poo. Really crap. I had a reed that would probably be of more use to a groundhog, but I just soldiered on and played through it. As I couldn't change reeds in mid-piece on stage, I figured it would be a good learning experience.

I hate learning.

Current reading: Shalimar the Clown by Salman Rushdie. Apparently the fatwah hasn't found its way to him yet. Must be a fast runner.

(Posted the next day due to laziness and exhaustion...)

The Home Stretch

Well, things are starting to wrap up for at least one project of mine. I've got this week to finish shopping my wares to my friends and colleagues before I take them on the road this weekend. I just want to do a good job, so I'm getting as much feedback as possible. Thinks aren't looking grim, which is...not grim.

The Lanza tribute was fun. Had a ton of free pasta. I also had a chance to dust off my pidgin Korean and make sure I still remembered a few nouns and verbs. I did find the only two Koreans in Boston (to be fair, they've been here only 2 months) who didn't believe that certain Korean restaurant up the street from where I went to college was complete crap. I felt awful for them and promptly directed them to many better options. (By the way, Korea House in Chinatown is closed. Apparently, they took my leaving for Korea kind of hard, closed up shop, and disappeared. I just hope they'll forgive me. Their saewoo kangpoongi was awesome.)

Oh yes...so I finally made it to the theater and saw Reign Over Me with Adam Sandler and Don Cheadle. I've avoided all 911 movies up to now (excpet for Loose Change), but I thought this one looked like it might approach things right. The last two movies that hit wide release about 911 seemed to be big blockbuster crash movies, which I really didn't want to see. I particularly didn't want to see Nick Cage try to pull my hearstrings. So far, Cheadle has picked good scripts and always been a classy actor. On that alone, I wanted to see this. I was hoping that Adam Sandler wouldn't completely schmuck it up.

In fact, the two of them performed excellently. The script has some small problems, but Cheadle was very good...very subtle. Sandler had a rough task ahead of him and he did very well. There are scenes where you can see his character shut down and revert back to old coping mechanisms in just a few seconds, even when dealing with someone else's grief. It's usually done with just his face and a "So...we gonna go get Chinese?" Sandler's got a fine performance under his belt. Between the two of them, this is a film absolutely worth seeing. Liv Tyler just kind of limps through her part.

It turns out that this really isn't a 9/11 movie. That aspect is certainly there, but purely as a trigger for what devestates Sandler's character. It's assumed that the audience gets why he is so destroyed. Don't worry about having 9/11 horses exhumed and beaten for this. This one is really about these two guys, their friendship, and how they help each other deal with shit (to put it technically).