I'm so frustrated, where do I begin?
1. Subbing at a school makes me realize there are so many problems with school and that I have no power or credentials to fix them. And subbing is inherently flawed because you have no opportunity to form a relationship with the students or fellow teachers or parents. And teaching art for three hours one day a week with no art room (which means no sink, storage space for wet paintings, or money to buy new paint.....) is just crazy. They'd be better off just dropping the art program.
2. I feel like the victim of sexism, but I can't tell if I'm just lazy or it's sexism. Or a little bit of both. But let me tell you, sexism is alive and well if you want to be a woman composer, conductor, or jazz musician. And to be honest I'm sick of this male idea of music that has to be show-offy and loud for the sake of being show-offy and loud. I feel like I need to balance all this testosterone with a month in a convent in Italy. Or France. Someplace scenic and far away. I'd be interested in hearing if any of you out there have experienced sexism in the arts. Esp. music. I'll share my story more in-depth in a personal, bitchy letter.
3. The thought that I will be poor forever with no hope for savings or retirement because I chose a career in the arts and teaching fields.
4. I just got an email from the secretary of the ESD office here who said my certification for WA was pending because they don't accept faxed signatures. They want the goddamn originals. Why? What difference does it make? It's this miniscule buracracy bullshit that makes me not want to work in schools. Or other institutions/corporations. Ever.
On a positive note, the musical is going well; I'm actually enjoying playing piano for these super cheesy shows and little kids in the audience with all of their HSM paraphanalia: light up shoes! Lunch bags and backpacks! Pom poms!
Oh, and tonight at a party, this guy was telling me he believes human beings came from aliens who did genetic engineering experiments at the beginning of time to create the human race. And that the moon is really an alien pod where they live inside it and watch their human experiment from above. And that Noah's ark was really fully of animal DNA, not actual animals. It was all so entertaining!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Artistic Q-tips
No, I'm not bored at all......
Seriously, these q-tips fell on a towel and I liked they way they looked--sort of like an abstract dada piece. Sort of.
If you're back reading this, I've decided to start posting again after a long hiatus. I've been busy with:
1. graduating from grad school
2. going to pig roasts (ask me about this!)
3. playing ulimate frisbee (once)
4. driving to nebraska and back to dance in an orange bridesmaid dress at a club for 80's night and get beer spilled all over me, and eating a Jimmy Johns sandwich in the middle of UNL's sculpture garden at 3am with old friends who knew me when I was 15, while watching a tall guy climb a tree and almost fall down....
5. trying to find creative work that pays something and finding little gigs at local children's theatre and parochial school
6. reading everything Madeleine L'Engle wrote (I started this before she passed away, I swear! It was a strange sort of synchronicity.....)
7. playing in a rock band (and hosting a rock band in our house--they needed somewhere to stay for the night, so they slept on our hard, dog-fur covered floors and in the morning we fixed them eggs and bacon while their keyboardist played Chopin and Beethoven by memory on the upright. No, it wasn't surreal at all.....).
8. listening to Joni Mitchell's Hejira album obsessively and trying to play tunes on the guitar
9. hydro-seeding the backyard, building a tall wooden fence, putting in bark landscape borders and otherwise acting like old people, doing yard work on the weekends and going to bed by 10pm.
10. reading as much as I can find about Gabriele Munter
That's the general overview. Here is something to ponder:
*11 pairs of identical gray New Balance tennis shoes, in the same state of wear, the same size, placed on successive steps in a hidden, carpeted stairwell.
Amazing, isn't it? I actually saw it. Now use your imagination......
Seriously, these q-tips fell on a towel and I liked they way they looked--sort of like an abstract dada piece. Sort of.
If you're back reading this, I've decided to start posting again after a long hiatus. I've been busy with:
1. graduating from grad school
2. going to pig roasts (ask me about this!)
3. playing ulimate frisbee (once)
4. driving to nebraska and back to dance in an orange bridesmaid dress at a club for 80's night and get beer spilled all over me, and eating a Jimmy Johns sandwich in the middle of UNL's sculpture garden at 3am with old friends who knew me when I was 15, while watching a tall guy climb a tree and almost fall down....
5. trying to find creative work that pays something and finding little gigs at local children's theatre and parochial school
6. reading everything Madeleine L'Engle wrote (I started this before she passed away, I swear! It was a strange sort of synchronicity.....)
7. playing in a rock band (and hosting a rock band in our house--they needed somewhere to stay for the night, so they slept on our hard, dog-fur covered floors and in the morning we fixed them eggs and bacon while their keyboardist played Chopin and Beethoven by memory on the upright. No, it wasn't surreal at all.....).
8. listening to Joni Mitchell's Hejira album obsessively and trying to play tunes on the guitar
9. hydro-seeding the backyard, building a tall wooden fence, putting in bark landscape borders and otherwise acting like old people, doing yard work on the weekends and going to bed by 10pm.
10. reading as much as I can find about Gabriele Munter
That's the general overview. Here is something to ponder:
*11 pairs of identical gray New Balance tennis shoes, in the same state of wear, the same size, placed on successive steps in a hidden, carpeted stairwell.
Amazing, isn't it? I actually saw it. Now use your imagination......
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Just for fun
To take a break from the never-ending and tedious process of editing music and parts, I decided to pick out random books from my shelf and open them up to random pages to see where my eye fell, randomly. For fun. And because I'm bored.
"Rather than mouth 'some invented cliches' in place of a 'poetic' correspondence, she explained to Cornell that she preferred to stay silent. Even so, she remained close in his reverie, as he jotted in his diary in 1946: 'dream of D [orothea] in bare feet and saw-dust,' a notation cryptically appended to a reminder to write Ernst."
--from "Joseph Cornell: Gifts of Desire" by Dickran Tashjian.
"We've all heard that the unexamined life is not worth living, but consider too that the unlived life is not worth examining."
--from "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron
"Then Jesse saw something that made her pause. A light in the garden flickered in and out of the bushes. Someone was out there with a flashlight."
--from "Undercover Girl" by Christine Harris
"Ken looked up and was more frightened than ever. His father's face looked appalling. It was swollen out of all shape, one eye was closed by purple and black lumps above and below, and the white dressing on the cheekbone was surrounded by an inflamed, angry circle."
--from "My Friend Flicka" by Mary O'Hara
"Mr. Bigger frowned. 'Tell him to wait,' he said irritably. He coughed and turned back to the Lord of the Manor. 'If I had any capital to spare, I'd put it all into late Venetians. Every penny.'"
--from "The Portrait" by Aldous Huxley (from an issue of Cicada magazine, May/June 2004)
"After they had driven the counter girl into a state of despair, the children took their purchases and went for a walk along the main and only drag. They tried, as always, to peer into the frosted windows of the saloons to see what kind of degenerates were inside at one in the afternoon. As always, someone came by and scolded them for hanging around a saloon."
--from "An Occassional Cow" by Polly Horvath
"'If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet,' said Priscilla."
--from "Anne of Avonlea" by L.M. Montgomery
"We now have an inkling of the unbelievable fertility of the universe, of the constant birthings of atoms and molecules, eggs and spermatozoa, of cells and living organisms in water and on land in this so-far-unique of all cosmic places, the Earth."
--from "Original Blessing" by Matthew Fox
"The writer Annie Dillard once observed that 'the way we spend our days is the way we spend our lives.' The way we live our lives also depends on the questions we ask."
--from "Callings" by Gregg Levoy
"Don't be afraid to answer the questions. You will find endless resources inside yourself. Writing is the act of burning through the fog in your mind. Don't carry the fog out on paper. Even if you are not sure of something, express it as though you know yourself. With this practice you eventually will."
--from "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg
"The function of descriptions in fiction is generally to deepen the illusion of person and place--to recreate their substance in the imagination of the reader, so that he is willing to believe he is in the presence of reality."
--from "Writing Fiction" by R. V. Cassill
"Yet there are thousands who have pondered the question of reality, and to the above statement their response might be, 'Not so fast!' Plato, remember, believed that only the Forms were real, because the Forms, being universal abstractions and never having had material substance, could therefore never change. Plato believed things that changed--the familiar world as well as the people in it--could not possess reality, because if they did, we would have to say that real things could come into and pass out of existence. How can they be real one minute and not real the next?"
--from "The Art of Being Human: the Humanities as a Technique for Living" by Richard Paul Janaro and Thelma C. Altshuler
"Physicists describe these two properties of physical laws--that they do not depend on when or where you use them--as symmetries of nature. By this usage physicists mean that nature treats every moment in time and every location in space identically--symmetrically--by ensuring that the same fundamental laws are in operation. Much in the same manner that they affect art and music, such symmetries are deeply satisfying; they highlight an order and a coherence in the workings of nature. The elegance of rich, complex, and diverse phenomena emerging from a simple set of universal laws is at least part of what physicists mean when they invoke the term 'beautiful.'"
--from "The Elegant Universe" by Brian Greene
"Rather than mouth 'some invented cliches' in place of a 'poetic' correspondence, she explained to Cornell that she preferred to stay silent. Even so, she remained close in his reverie, as he jotted in his diary in 1946: 'dream of D [orothea] in bare feet and saw-dust,' a notation cryptically appended to a reminder to write Ernst."
--from "Joseph Cornell: Gifts of Desire" by Dickran Tashjian.
"We've all heard that the unexamined life is not worth living, but consider too that the unlived life is not worth examining."
--from "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron
"Then Jesse saw something that made her pause. A light in the garden flickered in and out of the bushes. Someone was out there with a flashlight."
--from "Undercover Girl" by Christine Harris
"Ken looked up and was more frightened than ever. His father's face looked appalling. It was swollen out of all shape, one eye was closed by purple and black lumps above and below, and the white dressing on the cheekbone was surrounded by an inflamed, angry circle."
--from "My Friend Flicka" by Mary O'Hara
"Mr. Bigger frowned. 'Tell him to wait,' he said irritably. He coughed and turned back to the Lord of the Manor. 'If I had any capital to spare, I'd put it all into late Venetians. Every penny.'"
--from "The Portrait" by Aldous Huxley (from an issue of Cicada magazine, May/June 2004)
"After they had driven the counter girl into a state of despair, the children took their purchases and went for a walk along the main and only drag. They tried, as always, to peer into the frosted windows of the saloons to see what kind of degenerates were inside at one in the afternoon. As always, someone came by and scolded them for hanging around a saloon."
--from "An Occassional Cow" by Polly Horvath
"'If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet,' said Priscilla."
--from "Anne of Avonlea" by L.M. Montgomery
"We now have an inkling of the unbelievable fertility of the universe, of the constant birthings of atoms and molecules, eggs and spermatozoa, of cells and living organisms in water and on land in this so-far-unique of all cosmic places, the Earth."
--from "Original Blessing" by Matthew Fox
"The writer Annie Dillard once observed that 'the way we spend our days is the way we spend our lives.' The way we live our lives also depends on the questions we ask."
--from "Callings" by Gregg Levoy
"Don't be afraid to answer the questions. You will find endless resources inside yourself. Writing is the act of burning through the fog in your mind. Don't carry the fog out on paper. Even if you are not sure of something, express it as though you know yourself. With this practice you eventually will."
--from "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg
"The function of descriptions in fiction is generally to deepen the illusion of person and place--to recreate their substance in the imagination of the reader, so that he is willing to believe he is in the presence of reality."
--from "Writing Fiction" by R. V. Cassill
"Yet there are thousands who have pondered the question of reality, and to the above statement their response might be, 'Not so fast!' Plato, remember, believed that only the Forms were real, because the Forms, being universal abstractions and never having had material substance, could therefore never change. Plato believed things that changed--the familiar world as well as the people in it--could not possess reality, because if they did, we would have to say that real things could come into and pass out of existence. How can they be real one minute and not real the next?"
--from "The Art of Being Human: the Humanities as a Technique for Living" by Richard Paul Janaro and Thelma C. Altshuler
"Physicists describe these two properties of physical laws--that they do not depend on when or where you use them--as symmetries of nature. By this usage physicists mean that nature treats every moment in time and every location in space identically--symmetrically--by ensuring that the same fundamental laws are in operation. Much in the same manner that they affect art and music, such symmetries are deeply satisfying; they highlight an order and a coherence in the workings of nature. The elegance of rich, complex, and diverse phenomena emerging from a simple set of universal laws is at least part of what physicists mean when they invoke the term 'beautiful.'"
--from "The Elegant Universe" by Brian Greene
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
what I've been doing lately
Highlights of the last few weeks:
1. We got to eat two Easter dinners! One monday night and one sunday afternoon: 2 hams, several deviled eggs, some with salmon and dill, asparagus, scalloped potatoes, roasted potatoes, creamed corn, green bean casserole, iceberg salad, buns, lime jello fluff, chocolate cake with purply tasting frosting, no-bake cheesecake with gingersnap crust, lots of wine, and a shot of Ukranian vodka. The sunday afternoon dinner was had with Nancy and Brian, after which we played a game of Pit and sat around watching Zuzu sniff around their lovely huge backyard and chew on a block of wood. The monday night feast was celebrated with oodles of people at Remi and Jen's condo, where we gorged on the above foods, which come to think of it, were very midwestern. Some of the guests had never heard of or seen creamed corn or jell-o fluff. Imagine!
2. On saturday, K and I worked (well K did most of the work--I helped) on the back patio. He rented a truck for the day and hauled several loads of gravel, sand, and mulch that went into beatifying our ugly, mostly dirt and weeds, backyard. The weather here was gorgeous: 62 degrees and sunny. I put a kerchief on my head, rolled up my short-sleeved tee-shirt so I wouldn't get a farmer's tan, and raked sand and shoveled mulch for a few hours. The experience was actually cathartic? I felt my brain relaxing while my muscles burned from repetitive shoveling and raking motions. It's exactly what I needed too--Do you ever notice that your brain hurts from thinking too much? I've been writing so much music that my head literally feels bruised and achey. It felt good to get dirty and sweaty and concentrate on physical tasks, which made me realize how separated I am from what my farming ancestors did everyday. I'm such a pathetic city girl that I have no idea where most grocery store food comes from, how to grow flowers in my backyard, or how to start a compost pile. My grandparents and great-grand parents would be ashamed! The best part about saturday was riding around in the pickup truck. We drove to K's coworker's house to haul some old wooden fencing away, in hopes we might use it for our own backyard (right now we have chain-link with white plastic slats. Ick!). I can seriously see why people buy trucks--you feel a sense of power being up that high and rocking out to the classic rock station (c'mon, you can't listen to NPR in a truck!). I haven't ridden in a truck since high school, or earlier (not counting the big fancy white truck my dad drives around). I used to ride in my cousins' truck on their farm in eastern NE, which smelled of shit and dirt and gasoline. Is it possible to miss smells like that?
3. A few weeks ago I played in my first rock show ever. I made my keyboard debut with the T.R.'s, which consists of friends of ours. It was a total blast. The venue was full of K's work people, so they helped out with the drunken screaming and clapping and dancing to our songs. I had always wanted to be in a rock band, and now I am! It's totally a just-for-fun band but we're going to try to play more shows this summer and fall. We're also looking for a key-tar, so if you see one, send it our way. That's the only thing the last show was missing.....
4. Books read: Jane Eyre, The Bone People by Keri Hulme (loved it!!!), and Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver (good! but a little preachy.). Want to start on the new Sherman Alexie novel, Flight, which is about a time-traveling Indian. We're going to see Alexie at The Bing on the 22nd. Can't wait!
5. I've been chained to my computer. The agony isn't over yet--I still have to finish a few things, edit everything, and edit parts (which is the most awful boring thing ever). Then comes finding people, rehearsing, and trying not to go crazy in the process. The first person to hand me a bottle of gin after my recital gets a gold medal.
1. We got to eat two Easter dinners! One monday night and one sunday afternoon: 2 hams, several deviled eggs, some with salmon and dill, asparagus, scalloped potatoes, roasted potatoes, creamed corn, green bean casserole, iceberg salad, buns, lime jello fluff, chocolate cake with purply tasting frosting, no-bake cheesecake with gingersnap crust, lots of wine, and a shot of Ukranian vodka. The sunday afternoon dinner was had with Nancy and Brian, after which we played a game of Pit and sat around watching Zuzu sniff around their lovely huge backyard and chew on a block of wood. The monday night feast was celebrated with oodles of people at Remi and Jen's condo, where we gorged on the above foods, which come to think of it, were very midwestern. Some of the guests had never heard of or seen creamed corn or jell-o fluff. Imagine!
2. On saturday, K and I worked (well K did most of the work--I helped) on the back patio. He rented a truck for the day and hauled several loads of gravel, sand, and mulch that went into beatifying our ugly, mostly dirt and weeds, backyard. The weather here was gorgeous: 62 degrees and sunny. I put a kerchief on my head, rolled up my short-sleeved tee-shirt so I wouldn't get a farmer's tan, and raked sand and shoveled mulch for a few hours. The experience was actually cathartic? I felt my brain relaxing while my muscles burned from repetitive shoveling and raking motions. It's exactly what I needed too--Do you ever notice that your brain hurts from thinking too much? I've been writing so much music that my head literally feels bruised and achey. It felt good to get dirty and sweaty and concentrate on physical tasks, which made me realize how separated I am from what my farming ancestors did everyday. I'm such a pathetic city girl that I have no idea where most grocery store food comes from, how to grow flowers in my backyard, or how to start a compost pile. My grandparents and great-grand parents would be ashamed! The best part about saturday was riding around in the pickup truck. We drove to K's coworker's house to haul some old wooden fencing away, in hopes we might use it for our own backyard (right now we have chain-link with white plastic slats. Ick!). I can seriously see why people buy trucks--you feel a sense of power being up that high and rocking out to the classic rock station (c'mon, you can't listen to NPR in a truck!). I haven't ridden in a truck since high school, or earlier (not counting the big fancy white truck my dad drives around). I used to ride in my cousins' truck on their farm in eastern NE, which smelled of shit and dirt and gasoline. Is it possible to miss smells like that?
3. A few weeks ago I played in my first rock show ever. I made my keyboard debut with the T.R.'s, which consists of friends of ours. It was a total blast. The venue was full of K's work people, so they helped out with the drunken screaming and clapping and dancing to our songs. I had always wanted to be in a rock band, and now I am! It's totally a just-for-fun band but we're going to try to play more shows this summer and fall. We're also looking for a key-tar, so if you see one, send it our way. That's the only thing the last show was missing.....
4. Books read: Jane Eyre, The Bone People by Keri Hulme (loved it!!!), and Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver (good! but a little preachy.). Want to start on the new Sherman Alexie novel, Flight, which is about a time-traveling Indian. We're going to see Alexie at The Bing on the 22nd. Can't wait!
5. I've been chained to my computer. The agony isn't over yet--I still have to finish a few things, edit everything, and edit parts (which is the most awful boring thing ever). Then comes finding people, rehearsing, and trying not to go crazy in the process. The first person to hand me a bottle of gin after my recital gets a gold medal.
Monday, March 05, 2007
(insert clever title here)
I know better than to do this but I spent all weekend engrossed in a very riveting 19th century novel: Jane Eyre. I was in a reading slump, having checked out numerous books at the library over the past few weeks but not feeling enchanted with any of them (except Kira Kira, by Cynthia Kadohata, which was beautiful but very depressing). I literally spent all of Saturday and Sunday on the couch with the Dover paperback edition in my hands and chips and salsa on the coffee table.
It's amazing that something written over 150 years ago can still be relevant and fun to read today. The storytelling was great, the prose flowery and old but not difficult to understand, and the characters very sympathetic and colorful. In other words, I totally loved it, and am looking forward to tracking down the Masterpiece Theatre DVD when it comes out (if it's not out already). I haven't read a really romantic story like that in ages, and it was very satisfying (if not bodice-ripping). In fact, the last "romantic" book I read (where you have to keep reading in order to find out if ill-fated lovers end up together in the end) was The Thorn Birds, which I read in the 8th grade over a period of about two days over Christmas break. It was a very steamy read and I always find it interesting that there are usually 10 or more copies at the Sister's annual book sale at CSC.
There's something to be said for cheesy romance novels, ones that are well-written anyway. I was able to escape my present life as a stressed-out graduate student and live the life of someone who could have been my great-great-great-great (great?) grandmother. Was this book considered high literature in its day? Or was this considered a Danielle Steelish novel of its time (I'm picturing victorian ladies pulling this book out of their embroidery bags and stealing a few forbidden moments with Mr. Rochester on the fainting couch).
Anyway, aside from wasting away a weekend reading, I've had a few celebrity encounters worth noting. A couple weeks ago Faith Ringgold came to our humble town and gave a lecture. It was wonderful and we snagged a few autographed posters afterwards. It seems that all famous artists dress the same--big chunky jewelry, drapey clothing, hair piled on top of their heads--but this look suited her, along with her big gold and black glasses.
Also, Libby Larsen came to our school as a guest composer and spent a day on Feb. 13th working with performers, giving a lecture, and talking with student composers, including little old me. I was fortunate enough to be able to accompany her (by myself!) to the student union to grab a coke and some snacks and really talk about music. The whole experience was truly amazing and surreal--the whole time I was thinking, "Libby Larsen is sitting directly across from me in the PUB and drinking a diet pepsi, among students milling about, eating tater tots, watching sports on the big t.v., and playing cheesy made-up new-agey songs on the piano downstairs in the lobby." Our conversation was amazing, and I would write it all down here, but there are too many wonderful things to say, so if you want to know more you must call or write. Suffice it to say, she is an amazing and energetic woman, who was neither condescending nor arrogant, and very friendly and eager to talk about my (and my fellow students') work. What I noticed most about her manner of speaking and her overall outlook and energy pertaining to art and music was this: where most people (including myself) question their artistic vision and say to themselves, "Oh, that's a stupid idea. It would be impossible to pull off," she says, "How much will it cost?" I thought that was the most amazing thing about her, and why she is a famous and successful composer. It never occurred to her not to do something.
One more thing: I added a new link to the right--Retro Research. Read it over the next few days because she will soon be abandoning her blog. I've always wanted to do something like this myself, and think that I might try a month-long internet/email/t.v. fast once I'm out of school.
Lately I've really been missing snail mail (I've lost some electronic letters because I've changed email addresses a few times in the past few years, and who thinks to print them out beforehand?). Also, I waste so much time on the internet and watching shows I don't even really like on t.v. Sigh.
It's amazing that something written over 150 years ago can still be relevant and fun to read today. The storytelling was great, the prose flowery and old but not difficult to understand, and the characters very sympathetic and colorful. In other words, I totally loved it, and am looking forward to tracking down the Masterpiece Theatre DVD when it comes out (if it's not out already). I haven't read a really romantic story like that in ages, and it was very satisfying (if not bodice-ripping). In fact, the last "romantic" book I read (where you have to keep reading in order to find out if ill-fated lovers end up together in the end) was The Thorn Birds, which I read in the 8th grade over a period of about two days over Christmas break. It was a very steamy read and I always find it interesting that there are usually 10 or more copies at the Sister's annual book sale at CSC.
There's something to be said for cheesy romance novels, ones that are well-written anyway. I was able to escape my present life as a stressed-out graduate student and live the life of someone who could have been my great-great-great-great (great?) grandmother. Was this book considered high literature in its day? Or was this considered a Danielle Steelish novel of its time (I'm picturing victorian ladies pulling this book out of their embroidery bags and stealing a few forbidden moments with Mr. Rochester on the fainting couch).
Anyway, aside from wasting away a weekend reading, I've had a few celebrity encounters worth noting. A couple weeks ago Faith Ringgold came to our humble town and gave a lecture. It was wonderful and we snagged a few autographed posters afterwards. It seems that all famous artists dress the same--big chunky jewelry, drapey clothing, hair piled on top of their heads--but this look suited her, along with her big gold and black glasses.
Also, Libby Larsen came to our school as a guest composer and spent a day on Feb. 13th working with performers, giving a lecture, and talking with student composers, including little old me. I was fortunate enough to be able to accompany her (by myself!) to the student union to grab a coke and some snacks and really talk about music. The whole experience was truly amazing and surreal--the whole time I was thinking, "Libby Larsen is sitting directly across from me in the PUB and drinking a diet pepsi, among students milling about, eating tater tots, watching sports on the big t.v., and playing cheesy made-up new-agey songs on the piano downstairs in the lobby." Our conversation was amazing, and I would write it all down here, but there are too many wonderful things to say, so if you want to know more you must call or write. Suffice it to say, she is an amazing and energetic woman, who was neither condescending nor arrogant, and very friendly and eager to talk about my (and my fellow students') work. What I noticed most about her manner of speaking and her overall outlook and energy pertaining to art and music was this: where most people (including myself) question their artistic vision and say to themselves, "Oh, that's a stupid idea. It would be impossible to pull off," she says, "How much will it cost?" I thought that was the most amazing thing about her, and why she is a famous and successful composer. It never occurred to her not to do something.
One more thing: I added a new link to the right--Retro Research. Read it over the next few days because she will soon be abandoning her blog. I've always wanted to do something like this myself, and think that I might try a month-long internet/email/t.v. fast once I'm out of school.
Lately I've really been missing snail mail (I've lost some electronic letters because I've changed email addresses a few times in the past few years, and who thinks to print them out beforehand?). Also, I waste so much time on the internet and watching shows I don't even really like on t.v. Sigh.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
A Valentine from Johnny Mathis
Last night K and I went to see Johnny Mathis. If you don't know who that is, shame on you! Actually, we were probably the only ones there under the age of 60. All the wives dragged their husbands to the concert and made them wear sweater vests and comb their hair. During intermission two older gentlemen in front of us stood up to stretch their legs and joked they were going to stand for the rest of the concert. "You wouldn't mind, would you?" they asked us in a cute charming old man way. One of them said, "My wife would just tell me to sit down and shut up." It was very cute, this dynamic between persons from this generation, who probably conceived children to Johnny Mathis' crooning in the 50's and 60's.
The concert was amazing. He came out in a black tuxedo with bowtie, and opened up with that song from Willy Wonka ("if you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it....."). It was just him and the stringy-haired balding conductor/pianist, who played a lovely loungey piano. Then he launched into a Mancini medley with the orchestra (all wearing white tuxedos and lit only by music stand lights), then a medley of his most popular songs, including Chances Are and Misty. When he started a familiar song, two little old ladies sitting in front of us gasped and clutched each other's hands as if they were recalling a lovely moment. Then people would clap. It was like being on a Christopher Guest PBS special, but in a good, warm fuzzy way. I was totally into it and clapped along with them.
Later he did a Brazilian medley (he was very fond of these medleys with one song bleeding into another) where he sang a few Jobim songs in Portuguese, and closed the show with Brazil--a very spiffy upbeat version where they had a backround track of voices and the conductor/pianist was conducting and blowing a whistle at the same time and the orchestra was playing behind them and there was a brilliant light show. He got a standing ovation and came out and did two encores. He was very cute and a little shy, and very friendly and classy when addressing the audience. His voice hasn't changed much since the 50's, except he can't reach the high notes as well as he used to. But he still looks the same--dark skinned with a halo of dark wavy hair. I loved it all. It was very romantic.
It was fun to listen to reactions after the concert:
"They don't sing romantic music like that anymore, where you can understand the words."
"He still has all his hair."
"Isn't he in his 70's?"
"Unforgettable."
"Phenomenal.
"He's so elegant."
I first heard of Johnny when I was in high school. My favorite movie back then was "Chances Are," in which Robert Downey Jr. played Cybil Shepherd's reincarnated husband. In the movie, Cybil's character loves to listen to Johnny Mathis, so after I saw it, I rushed out to Wal-Mart and bought a casstte tape of his greatest hits, which included a disco version of "Begin the Beguine," and other sexy songs, one of which was called, "It doesn't have to hurt everytime."
(I regret to say, Kelly, that he did not sing this song). So started my obsession. Two summers ago I found a double-record set of his greatest hits from the 60's at this great record store that has since gone out of business. That July of 2005, I played it on our portable record player while my mom, aunt, Kelly, K and I sat on our porch drinking whiskey sours and Kokanees. I'll never forget Aunt Cookie swilling a beer and looking (mistily) off into the distance, saying, "This music just sends me......."
The concert was amazing. He came out in a black tuxedo with bowtie, and opened up with that song from Willy Wonka ("if you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it....."). It was just him and the stringy-haired balding conductor/pianist, who played a lovely loungey piano. Then he launched into a Mancini medley with the orchestra (all wearing white tuxedos and lit only by music stand lights), then a medley of his most popular songs, including Chances Are and Misty. When he started a familiar song, two little old ladies sitting in front of us gasped and clutched each other's hands as if they were recalling a lovely moment. Then people would clap. It was like being on a Christopher Guest PBS special, but in a good, warm fuzzy way. I was totally into it and clapped along with them.
Later he did a Brazilian medley (he was very fond of these medleys with one song bleeding into another) where he sang a few Jobim songs in Portuguese, and closed the show with Brazil--a very spiffy upbeat version where they had a backround track of voices and the conductor/pianist was conducting and blowing a whistle at the same time and the orchestra was playing behind them and there was a brilliant light show. He got a standing ovation and came out and did two encores. He was very cute and a little shy, and very friendly and classy when addressing the audience. His voice hasn't changed much since the 50's, except he can't reach the high notes as well as he used to. But he still looks the same--dark skinned with a halo of dark wavy hair. I loved it all. It was very romantic.
It was fun to listen to reactions after the concert:
"They don't sing romantic music like that anymore, where you can understand the words."
"He still has all his hair."
"Isn't he in his 70's?"
"Unforgettable."
"Phenomenal.
"He's so elegant."
I first heard of Johnny when I was in high school. My favorite movie back then was "Chances Are," in which Robert Downey Jr. played Cybil Shepherd's reincarnated husband. In the movie, Cybil's character loves to listen to Johnny Mathis, so after I saw it, I rushed out to Wal-Mart and bought a casstte tape of his greatest hits, which included a disco version of "Begin the Beguine," and other sexy songs, one of which was called, "It doesn't have to hurt everytime."
(I regret to say, Kelly, that he did not sing this song). So started my obsession. Two summers ago I found a double-record set of his greatest hits from the 60's at this great record store that has since gone out of business. That July of 2005, I played it on our portable record player while my mom, aunt, Kelly, K and I sat on our porch drinking whiskey sours and Kokanees. I'll never forget Aunt Cookie swilling a beer and looking (mistily) off into the distance, saying, "This music just sends me......."
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
new year, new things
I finally feel like I have some free time, since my load has lightened quite a bit. I'm only taking one class this quarter, which is a non-required class, and the rest of the week I'm teaching three students piano lessons, working one day a week at my retail job, and trying to compose and practice so I can graduate this June. However, I haven't been very productive so far this year in my creative work, which is no big surprise. I sleep in, laze around for awhile, eat lunch, then have to go off to work or class or lessons in the afternoon. To remedy this problem, I just found a new book that I am hoping will get me out of my procrastination habits. It's called The Now Habit, and so far, it's really great. It explains why people have a tendency to procrastinate on certain things, and methods for being more productive. I really only have three months to write some music for my recital, so I better get crackin' on these methods.
Other than trying to overcome procrastination for my new year's resolution, I'm also trying to get back into shape. I'm taking a beginning yoga class, which has been wonderful so far, but it's making me really sore. Everytime I go to class, I get the urge to move my body more, to take some dance classes again. I can't believe I have been putting off movement for so long. I feel so great after class, and I think it helps with anxiety/depression issues. So I think I might sign up for a dance class or try to do some swimming. I've also been rollerskating with some friends who are whizzes on the rink. They can skate backwards and do the limbo. This friday we're going again, for a benefit for the Lilac City Rollergirls--our very own rollergirl team. I'm half-tempted to join them, but I'm such a wuss--I worry about falling and breaking limbs and fingers.
As far as books go, I just finished The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. I really really liked it. It appealed to that side of me that loves historical mysteries and Eastern European folklore. I'm trying to find another good read, but it's so hard to find something after you've read a really great book. I did pick up the new short story collection by Haruki Murakami, which I'm really excited about. I'm also in my Nancy Drew phase again (happens every couple months) where I reread ones I've forgotten about. My collection is almost complete--I'm only missing a few volumes. The bookstore downtown has some used Tom Swift books--maybe I need to start a new collection.
Things I want to accomplish this year:
1. Be able to do the splits (and be in better health, in general)
2. Do some house repairs: paint, garden, new pictures for the walls, new couch....
3. My recital!!
4. Be able to play some polkas and waltzes on the accordion
5. Write some short stories
6. Do some crafting/art: Shibori? Leather tooling? Photography? Painting? Tatting?
7. Get really great at baking bread
8. Write letters! (hopefully on a vintage secretary desk I haven't found yet)
9. Read some of the classics
10. Explore some new places (small towns in NE and WA, Europe?)
Other than trying to overcome procrastination for my new year's resolution, I'm also trying to get back into shape. I'm taking a beginning yoga class, which has been wonderful so far, but it's making me really sore. Everytime I go to class, I get the urge to move my body more, to take some dance classes again. I can't believe I have been putting off movement for so long. I feel so great after class, and I think it helps with anxiety/depression issues. So I think I might sign up for a dance class or try to do some swimming. I've also been rollerskating with some friends who are whizzes on the rink. They can skate backwards and do the limbo. This friday we're going again, for a benefit for the Lilac City Rollergirls--our very own rollergirl team. I'm half-tempted to join them, but I'm such a wuss--I worry about falling and breaking limbs and fingers.
As far as books go, I just finished The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. I really really liked it. It appealed to that side of me that loves historical mysteries and Eastern European folklore. I'm trying to find another good read, but it's so hard to find something after you've read a really great book. I did pick up the new short story collection by Haruki Murakami, which I'm really excited about. I'm also in my Nancy Drew phase again (happens every couple months) where I reread ones I've forgotten about. My collection is almost complete--I'm only missing a few volumes. The bookstore downtown has some used Tom Swift books--maybe I need to start a new collection.
Things I want to accomplish this year:
1. Be able to do the splits (and be in better health, in general)
2. Do some house repairs: paint, garden, new pictures for the walls, new couch....
3. My recital!!
4. Be able to play some polkas and waltzes on the accordion
5. Write some short stories
6. Do some crafting/art: Shibori? Leather tooling? Photography? Painting? Tatting?
7. Get really great at baking bread
8. Write letters! (hopefully on a vintage secretary desk I haven't found yet)
9. Read some of the classics
10. Explore some new places (small towns in NE and WA, Europe?)
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Celebrity sightings!
You may think Spokane is a boring, snore-inducing little town, but so far I have spotted three celebrities--two in the past week, and one last summer (Cuba Gooding Jr, wearing a nice white shirt and tie, standing in the doorway of his trailer, which was parked on a street downtown, which was, incidentally, on my way to work. He was filming some movie at the time, and when I walked by I was a little stunned and tempted to flash him, but I spotted some teenage girls standing there and drooling so I thought I'd save him from too much fan lust). Last week, I was on my lunch break in the cafe next to the bookstore in the building where I work, minding my own business, sipping some split pea soup and trying to read. I always take my glasses off when I read and/or eat, so I couldn't see the guy a few tables down who was laughing and talking loudly to a bookstore clerk. I kept looking over, because, you know, I was trying to focus on my reading, and he just wouldn't shut up. Then I realized who it was: Sherman Alexie. He was signing copies of his novels for the bookstore, where he usually gives readings when he's in town. I really was going to make a fool of myself and go talk to him as soon as I finished my soup, but he left before then. It's probably best that way--I'm sure he gets tired of fans coming up to him and saying how much they like his work, and that they're writers too, and would he look at something they wrote? Well, I wouldn't go that far........or would I.....? I was amazed though--he is one of my favorite writers--Jonis introduced one of his short stories to us in Intro to Creative Writing, and ever since then I've been a huge fan. Incidentally, on our trip to Portland a few days later, we stayed in the Sherman Alexie room in the Bluebird Guesthouse (which consisted of pumpkin-colored walls, vintage lamps, and black velvet paintings of wooded landscapes).
My third celebrity sighting was today, in my little store. This woman comes up to the counter and hands me a stack of Christmas puzzles and Deluxe Scrabble and wonders if we could hold them while she looks around some more. I look up and it's Julia Sweeney. Again, I'm surprised at how normal she looks--like she's just another housewife that lives in Spokane. I really don't know what I expected (fur coat? tiara?) but I couldn't believe she was one of the many Christmas shoppers in the store, probably buying the puzzles for her mother and the scrabble for a nephew. Anyway, I did make a fool of myself and asked if she was indeed Julia Sweeney, to which she looked down or away and said yes. I was immediately embarrassed that I asked her, because, of course she was Julia Sweeney, and she was probably worried I'd bring up my favorite sketches and start imitating them (which I would never ever do). To remedy the situation I asked her if she was from Spokane, to which she replied yes, that she comes here a few times a year to visit family. Then I shut up. I'm sure she hates stuff like that. But, I couldn't resist.
On a related note, just yesterday, K's coworkers dragged him to Santa's lap in the mall and made him sit on it so they could take a group picture. I guess they budged in front of Julia Sweeney in the line so they wouldn't be late for their P.F. Chang reservation at 11:15. K didn't realize who they were budging in front of, but today, a coworker revealed what they had done. So we both had indirectly made fools of ourselves to the same person within 24 hours of each other. Boy howdy.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
I'm pulling my hair out now
Sorry for the lapse in postings, but I have two final projects due tomorrow plus a truck-load of papers to grade, so check back on thursday or friday.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Too Hot for Vienna, ca. 1800
I'm sure my students think I'm on crack.
Today in class I described Beethoven's music as being "sexy."
How else to describe it though?
I showed them a clip from Immortal Beloved--the part where Gary Oldman as Beethoven is playing Moonlight Sonata with his ear down on the piano. I'm having flashbacks to the year I lived with Kelly in Crandall Hall and our room was plastered with pictures of Gary Oldman and Daniel Day Lewis and Ralph Fiennes. We were obsessed with G.O's Beethoven and listened to the slow, pulsating (sexy) second movement of his 7th symphony over and over and smoked Galois cigarettes, as a sort of outlet for our mid-CSC-no boy-dilemma.
I played the Pathetique piano sonata for them in class on the stereo, along witht the Andante of the 7th symphony. Did I reach them? Did I make it clear to them just how sexy Beethoven's music is?
Am I being too creepy?
Today in class I described Beethoven's music as being "sexy."
How else to describe it though?
I showed them a clip from Immortal Beloved--the part where Gary Oldman as Beethoven is playing Moonlight Sonata with his ear down on the piano. I'm having flashbacks to the year I lived with Kelly in Crandall Hall and our room was plastered with pictures of Gary Oldman and Daniel Day Lewis and Ralph Fiennes. We were obsessed with G.O's Beethoven and listened to the slow, pulsating (sexy) second movement of his 7th symphony over and over and smoked Galois cigarettes, as a sort of outlet for our mid-CSC-no boy-dilemma.
I played the Pathetique piano sonata for them in class on the stereo, along witht the Andante of the 7th symphony. Did I reach them? Did I make it clear to them just how sexy Beethoven's music is?
Am I being too creepy?
Monday, November 20, 2006
A Very Peevish and Bitchy Post
I'm feeling very peevish.
This morning in orchestration class my professor couldn't understand why I hadn't included a brass section in my orchestration of Debussy's Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fut. I had explained why before (I like homogeneous groupings of instruments like all strings or all winds or all percussion or all brass--I have a hard time mixing them--like some people have a hard time mixing their peas with their mashed potatoes; also, this piece sounds very bell and gong-like--nothing too brassy or bright). Anyway, it just rubbed me the wrong way (seriously I can understand why he wanted me to include brass, but I get tired of explaining my artistic decisions to him--not that he's not artistic--and I sound like a total pretentious bey-otch here but I don't want any g-damn trumpets muddling up my gorgeous marimba/flute/string vibe I have going on here.
Also, I teach a counterpoint lesson on Monday afternoon to a student who is incorrigible (is that the right word? Or maybe I should just say damn annoying). I know I shouldn't talk about my students that way, but oh my god I'm so sick of him complaining about how counterpoint rules interfere with his genius compositional artistry (he's a freshman). "Why is a fourth dissonant? Why can't I use fourths on the downbeat? Why is it called a 'perfect' fifth? Why can't we use parallel fifths? I feel so restricted! I'm just going to write the most boring music then, to REBEL AGAINST SOMEONE WHO'S BEEN DEAD FOR 500 YEARS.
What. the. hell. I appreciate the curiosity, the questioning, but it really is a moot point isn't it? I can't explain why they didn't like fourths in the 16th century--they just didn't! So live with it! Anyway, I could go on and on but I can't tolerate inane, pointless, irrelevant questions. Some teachers say there is no such as a stupid question but I say there is! And could you not take up my time asking them? And to make it worse he was talking back and getting mad at me for correcting his improper use of dissonances. The point of all this bitching is that I'm sick of having to justify why composers made up rules for controlling dissonances back in the 16th century to a pretentious kid who can't wait to write a symphony and be famous.
I'm really starting to understand why this field is dominated by men. It requires complete and utter belief in your own compositional genius/prowess and the (biological?) need or want to show off that prowess. It also requires insane attention to detail and incredible, left-brained analytical skills. I'm not into any of this, although I know some women are. I really think that the tradition of writing art music down to be performed by professionals is becoming obsolete and irrelevant. General audiences don't care about this sort of music, and professionals don't want to play new music (generally speaking. It takes years to work up to that point. Or you have to go to Juilliard). I think the world needs new music, but not in this way. I think we need to go back to the old days where composers were more like tradesmen or public servants (none of this genius crap). They served a necessary purpose in society--to write new music for church or the court or dancing or street entertainment. It wasn't about this sense of entitlement (oh look at me! I wrote a symphony! I can't understand why no one wants to play it or listen to it). It was about serving their community. Granted, that life sucked in many ways and they weren't able to compose freely, but they were able to make livings as musicians. It really is no wonder that most people prefer to listen to Baroque, Classical, or Romantic music compared to twentieth-century music.
I think I'm done with my rant. But I still feel peevish. I felt peevish looking at the new issue of BUST (I love that mag but am getting kinda sick of so-called "alternative" culture). I'm mad because I lost a library CD (I can't find it anywhere!). I'm mad because I'm sick of school and students who come up with lame excuses for not turning in an assignment today ("I couldn't find the essay questions on the website!" Or "I left class before you wrote down the fourth question," or "I tried sending you an email last week but it didn't work so I'm turning this assignment in a week late because I don't know your office room number!" -----All of which are completely ridiculous. Everything is either posted on the website or on the syllabus). I'm also sick of French manicures (those icky girls who wear expensive-looking clothes and for the life of them cannot go to the bookstore and buy a 3-dollar mini-stapler).
Yeah, sorry about that. What I need to do now is take a nap.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Sisley Huddleston is Such a Drip-- and How!
I spent a lot of money today.
We made the mistake of going into a used bookstore and antique store after breakfast this morning. By the way, breakfast was had at Ferguson's Cafe--the restaurant in Benny and Joon where Ruthie (red-haired what's her name) worked as a waitress. Cool, huh!
I bought:
*2 Christmas records: Spokane's own Bing Crosby; and Kenny and Dolly
*A vintage young-adult book: Tom Swift and His Jetmarine
*A book entitled: Paris Salons, Cafes, Studios: by a man named Sisley Huddleston (printed in 1928). In the first few pages, there is an "epistle dedicatory" to W.L. Warden, Esq.
*A cool pink vintage lamp (with an attached bowl thingy in front. Is that for candy?)
*A vintage cocktail set: tall martini pitcher with 6 matching gold-striped martini glasses
I was naughty, but I only splurge on fun stuff a few times a year. So there!
We made the mistake of going into a used bookstore and antique store after breakfast this morning. By the way, breakfast was had at Ferguson's Cafe--the restaurant in Benny and Joon where Ruthie (red-haired what's her name) worked as a waitress. Cool, huh!
I bought:
*2 Christmas records: Spokane's own Bing Crosby; and Kenny and Dolly
*A vintage young-adult book: Tom Swift and His Jetmarine
*A book entitled: Paris Salons, Cafes, Studios: by a man named Sisley Huddleston (printed in 1928). In the first few pages, there is an "epistle dedicatory" to W.L. Warden, Esq.
*A cool pink vintage lamp (with an attached bowl thingy in front. Is that for candy?)
*A vintage cocktail set: tall martini pitcher with 6 matching gold-striped martini glasses
I was naughty, but I only splurge on fun stuff a few times a year. So there!
Friday, November 17, 2006
Shut Up! I'm Trying to Compose!
I've been so deliciously lazy lately.
I'm nearly done with my final projects (well, I'm over the hump at least) and have had these last two days off of school due to the music building being taken over by pimply high school jazz students for what is called "jazz dialogue." They take up every classroom, so boo-hoo--there is no teaching nor learning to be done for today (or yesterday). So, I've been sleeping in until noon (literally) because I've been working on about 5 hours of sleep a night. I feel a little hazy today and guilty for not getting up early, but I don't care. I'm going to work on my orchestration project and then walk downtown (I haven't really "exercised" since the wisdom teeth came out on Sept. 1). Then I'm going to watch a movie (feeling an Amelie itch) and play around on the piano (what other people call "composing." If I call it that I feel like I have to write something brillilant).
Other than being lazy, here's what else I've been up to:
1. Watching the Frontline episode about the Jim West debachle (by the way: oh my god. The whole thing, including Frontline's selective coverage, was very f' ed up).
2. After that, PBS re-aired one of my favorite Independent Lens shows. It's called, "A Touch of Greatness," and is about this elementary school teacher from NY, who, in the sixties, had his 5th grade students put on plays by Shakespeare and Shaw, and had spelling bee races, and designed a classroom atmosphere in which active learning (doing) took place instead of passive learning (read John Holt--see below). I love this show and lament that teachers cannot get away with this sort of thing today because of all the ridiculous standards and tests and political correctness. I'm sure this is on Netflix--you must see it if you have any interest in education.
3. Because I watched this documentary, I'm on another John Holt/education kick. I'm skimming through these books (I don't really have time to read for pleasure yet):
"Instead of Education."
"Freedom and Beyond." (both by John Holt)
I'm also looking at these books:
"What Does it Mean to be Well Educated?" by Alfie Kohn
"What's College For? The Struggle to Define American Higher Education" by Zachary Karabell
"How Popular Musicians Learn" by Lucy Green
"Musiking: The Meanings of Listening and Performing" by Christopher Small
I think by reading all of these I should get an honorary P.H. D, or as Kelly calls it, a P.H. Me.
4. I've been sleeping in lately because I missed out on sleep on Tuesday night, when a friend of ours called, inviting us over for a midnight birthday celebration. It was great--we had just finished watching "Art School Confidential" (which was weird and disappointing) and drove over to J's apartment in our old neighborhood. We put on some Mardi Gras beads, ate some carrot cake, played mad-libs (haven't done that since 6th grade! They didn't believe me when I said "fusty" was a word. It is indeed a word and means "fogyish, or old-fashioned." It also means "smelling of mildew or decay."), and set off some bottlerockets in the middle of the street. Incidentally, the young German composer of the Spokane Symphony lives in a condo next door (how do I know this? I'm too embarrassed to tell you. No no it's nothing like THAT). We joked that we might disturb him from his music practicing by setting off the rockets (he has a baby grand--I saw him practicing through the first-floor window). Imagine K mocking the conductor in his best German accent: "Shut up! I'm trying to compose!" God, that was funny.
I'm nearly done with my final projects (well, I'm over the hump at least) and have had these last two days off of school due to the music building being taken over by pimply high school jazz students for what is called "jazz dialogue." They take up every classroom, so boo-hoo--there is no teaching nor learning to be done for today (or yesterday). So, I've been sleeping in until noon (literally) because I've been working on about 5 hours of sleep a night. I feel a little hazy today and guilty for not getting up early, but I don't care. I'm going to work on my orchestration project and then walk downtown (I haven't really "exercised" since the wisdom teeth came out on Sept. 1). Then I'm going to watch a movie (feeling an Amelie itch) and play around on the piano (what other people call "composing." If I call it that I feel like I have to write something brillilant).
Other than being lazy, here's what else I've been up to:
1. Watching the Frontline episode about the Jim West debachle (by the way: oh my god. The whole thing, including Frontline's selective coverage, was very f' ed up).
2. After that, PBS re-aired one of my favorite Independent Lens shows. It's called, "A Touch of Greatness," and is about this elementary school teacher from NY, who, in the sixties, had his 5th grade students put on plays by Shakespeare and Shaw, and had spelling bee races, and designed a classroom atmosphere in which active learning (doing) took place instead of passive learning (read John Holt--see below). I love this show and lament that teachers cannot get away with this sort of thing today because of all the ridiculous standards and tests and political correctness. I'm sure this is on Netflix--you must see it if you have any interest in education.
3. Because I watched this documentary, I'm on another John Holt/education kick. I'm skimming through these books (I don't really have time to read for pleasure yet):
"Instead of Education."
"Freedom and Beyond." (both by John Holt)
I'm also looking at these books:
"What Does it Mean to be Well Educated?" by Alfie Kohn
"What's College For? The Struggle to Define American Higher Education" by Zachary Karabell
"How Popular Musicians Learn" by Lucy Green
"Musiking: The Meanings of Listening and Performing" by Christopher Small
I think by reading all of these I should get an honorary P.H. D, or as Kelly calls it, a P.H. Me.
4. I've been sleeping in lately because I missed out on sleep on Tuesday night, when a friend of ours called, inviting us over for a midnight birthday celebration. It was great--we had just finished watching "Art School Confidential" (which was weird and disappointing) and drove over to J's apartment in our old neighborhood. We put on some Mardi Gras beads, ate some carrot cake, played mad-libs (haven't done that since 6th grade! They didn't believe me when I said "fusty" was a word. It is indeed a word and means "fogyish, or old-fashioned." It also means "smelling of mildew or decay."), and set off some bottlerockets in the middle of the street. Incidentally, the young German composer of the Spokane Symphony lives in a condo next door (how do I know this? I'm too embarrassed to tell you. No no it's nothing like THAT). We joked that we might disturb him from his music practicing by setting off the rockets (he has a baby grand--I saw him practicing through the first-floor window). Imagine K mocking the conductor in his best German accent: "Shut up! I'm trying to compose!" God, that was funny.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
The Sentimental Value of Hot Dogs, Xanadu, and Amadeus
As I was looking across the sea of bored faces in my humanities class this morning, I wondered if it's harder for people to appreciate classical music if they haven't been brought up with it. I was thinking about one of my favorite movies, Xanadu (one of two movies I own--the other one is Breakfast at Tiffany's--both on VHS) and how people either love or hate that movie, depending on if they saw it as a child. I remember watching it on t.v. when I was in first or second grade and thinking I heard my name in that song Olivia Newton John sings when she's roller skating around that empty auditorium (I think it's called, "Magic," and when she sings the word, "survive," it sounds like she's saying my name). I rediscovered that movie in college, when I happened to be working in the paint shop with two other girls who also loved that movie as kids. One of the girls owned it and during our lunch breaks we'd drive to Dairy Queen for 50 cent hot dogs and go back to her apartment and watch that movie (we were a little liberal with our lunch breaks). We felt like we were triplets separated at birth, because it's difficult to find other people who love that movie (it's really pretty cheesy).
Anyway, I've been having the students do little presentations on Romantic period composers where they share some biographical information and bring some listening examples for the whole class to hear. The group today brought in some Bruckner, who wrote some gorgeous symphonies. We listened to a few minutes of one, and I while it was playing I realized that this music could really sound boring to people who haven't listened to classical music before at home as children or teenagers. They're used to classical music being elevator music, or something they study to, or something they hear on commercials or movie scores--always background music, if they notice it at all. They recognized Wagner's Ride of the Valkries (sp?) and Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet because these themes have been used numerous times in commercials or cartoons. But when it comes to something that's unfamiliar to them like a Bruckner or Mendelssohn symphony, they automatically tune out and their eyes glaze over and they start chatting and rustling papers and coughing. It's almost like a Pavlovian response: an unfamiliar orchestral piece comes on over the speakers and they start drooling (or dozing or coughing or sighing with boredom).
I think I really love classical music because it has sentimental value for me. When I was a kid mom had the Amadeus soundtrack on cassette tape, and for a period of a few years, that's all we listened to at home. It was Mozart, 24/7. I remember specific instances. I was in third grade and we were living in Grand Island, NE in a small apartment building. I knew we must have been poor because the carpet was ugly and brown and I had to wear hand-me-down clothes from my cousins, and we didn't have a piano, so I was not able to take piano lessons like I wanted. Instead, the carpet served as my keyboard. I knew the Concerto for Two Pianos inside and out, and would sit on the floor and pound out all of the notes, convinced I could play it for real if a piano materialized in front of me. I also remember putting together a terrarium for a science fair project and singing along to Don Giovanni.
Now, whenever I listen to the Amadeus soundtrack, which is on my iPod, I am instantly taken back to that time when Mozart helped us get through a tough time. I know the order of the songs, and I can sing them by heart. But unless my students have experienced a similar scenario where music was played at home, I doubt they can connect with the music in the way that I can. That music is written in an old and outdated language they don't understand. It sounds completely different from Tupac or Alicia Keys or Britney Spears or Vince Gill, songs of which last a few short minutes with catchy and provocative lyrics and flashy guitar riffs or techno beats to keep them dancing or singing along. Classical music, on the other hand, requires a long attention span, deep listening skills, and a comfortable chair to hear all the nuances and subtle orchestral effects. It takes time to absorb a piece--it doesn't offer instant gratification like popular music. And for them to be exposed to classical music for the first time in a big, fluorescent-lighted, concrete-walled, no windowed, bland white dirty choir room with no comfortable desks or chairs to sit in--it's no wonder they space out and text-message their friends during class. I would probably do the same if I were in their shoes.
There has been no precedent set for them--no reason for them to consider music written by "dead white guys" hundreds of years ago. Classical music is something rich old people listen to. What could it possibly have to do with their lives? The fact that it is beautiful is not enough. They have no point of reference, or sentimental attachment. I honestly can't think of a reason they should listen to classical music or attend symphony concerts, other than transparent arguments that it makes them more "cultured," or because it's beautiful, or it feels satisfying to listen to. They've already got their music that feels satisfying to them.
I feel like I have to sell them on classical music before the end of the quarter on Dec. 1. How will I do it? Is it possible? Should this be the purpose of the class or should they be allowed to sit there bored out of their minds, making a few chicken scratches in their notebooks as I lecture about the difference between a fugue and a toccata, or what sonata form is? Should I care that they don't care?
Anyway, I've been having the students do little presentations on Romantic period composers where they share some biographical information and bring some listening examples for the whole class to hear. The group today brought in some Bruckner, who wrote some gorgeous symphonies. We listened to a few minutes of one, and I while it was playing I realized that this music could really sound boring to people who haven't listened to classical music before at home as children or teenagers. They're used to classical music being elevator music, or something they study to, or something they hear on commercials or movie scores--always background music, if they notice it at all. They recognized Wagner's Ride of the Valkries (sp?) and Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet because these themes have been used numerous times in commercials or cartoons. But when it comes to something that's unfamiliar to them like a Bruckner or Mendelssohn symphony, they automatically tune out and their eyes glaze over and they start chatting and rustling papers and coughing. It's almost like a Pavlovian response: an unfamiliar orchestral piece comes on over the speakers and they start drooling (or dozing or coughing or sighing with boredom).
I think I really love classical music because it has sentimental value for me. When I was a kid mom had the Amadeus soundtrack on cassette tape, and for a period of a few years, that's all we listened to at home. It was Mozart, 24/7. I remember specific instances. I was in third grade and we were living in Grand Island, NE in a small apartment building. I knew we must have been poor because the carpet was ugly and brown and I had to wear hand-me-down clothes from my cousins, and we didn't have a piano, so I was not able to take piano lessons like I wanted. Instead, the carpet served as my keyboard. I knew the Concerto for Two Pianos inside and out, and would sit on the floor and pound out all of the notes, convinced I could play it for real if a piano materialized in front of me. I also remember putting together a terrarium for a science fair project and singing along to Don Giovanni.
Now, whenever I listen to the Amadeus soundtrack, which is on my iPod, I am instantly taken back to that time when Mozart helped us get through a tough time. I know the order of the songs, and I can sing them by heart. But unless my students have experienced a similar scenario where music was played at home, I doubt they can connect with the music in the way that I can. That music is written in an old and outdated language they don't understand. It sounds completely different from Tupac or Alicia Keys or Britney Spears or Vince Gill, songs of which last a few short minutes with catchy and provocative lyrics and flashy guitar riffs or techno beats to keep them dancing or singing along. Classical music, on the other hand, requires a long attention span, deep listening skills, and a comfortable chair to hear all the nuances and subtle orchestral effects. It takes time to absorb a piece--it doesn't offer instant gratification like popular music. And for them to be exposed to classical music for the first time in a big, fluorescent-lighted, concrete-walled, no windowed, bland white dirty choir room with no comfortable desks or chairs to sit in--it's no wonder they space out and text-message their friends during class. I would probably do the same if I were in their shoes.
There has been no precedent set for them--no reason for them to consider music written by "dead white guys" hundreds of years ago. Classical music is something rich old people listen to. What could it possibly have to do with their lives? The fact that it is beautiful is not enough. They have no point of reference, or sentimental attachment. I honestly can't think of a reason they should listen to classical music or attend symphony concerts, other than transparent arguments that it makes them more "cultured," or because it's beautiful, or it feels satisfying to listen to. They've already got their music that feels satisfying to them.
I feel like I have to sell them on classical music before the end of the quarter on Dec. 1. How will I do it? Is it possible? Should this be the purpose of the class or should they be allowed to sit there bored out of their minds, making a few chicken scratches in their notebooks as I lecture about the difference between a fugue and a toccata, or what sonata form is? Should I care that they don't care?
Monday, November 13, 2006
Miscellaneous (did I spell that right?)
Nothing to report. Must go to bed. Here's a few freebies:
I'm reading Citizen Vince by Jess Walter (local author) and will start reading The Highest Tide by Jim Lynch after that.
Quelf is a fun game.
I learned how to say "I dance like an elephant," in Russian, last night at a party.
I want to have a "Sixteen Candles" 30th birthday party where one would find t.p.'ed trees and pizzas on the turn table and Anthony Michael Hall trapped underneath the coffee table.
After I graduate I'm planning on playing in a rock band, a small Baroque ensemble, a cafe-accordion duo with a singer, a Klezmer/Eastern European ethnic ensemble, and a contemporary music ensemble.
I'm reading Citizen Vince by Jess Walter (local author) and will start reading The Highest Tide by Jim Lynch after that.
Quelf is a fun game.
I learned how to say "I dance like an elephant," in Russian, last night at a party.
I want to have a "Sixteen Candles" 30th birthday party where one would find t.p.'ed trees and pizzas on the turn table and Anthony Michael Hall trapped underneath the coffee table.
After I graduate I'm planning on playing in a rock band, a small Baroque ensemble, a cafe-accordion duo with a singer, a Klezmer/Eastern European ethnic ensemble, and a contemporary music ensemble.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
The process of de-institutionalization starts now
Last night I saw a great band at Whitworth College--Norfolk and Western from Portland. They played here last spring, and I got a chance to talk to their girl drummer. She teaches at the Rock n' Roll camp for girls (Portland, every summer. They even have a rock camp for women too), and painted a cute crow beating a drum on her kick drum. The band is really cool--there's a lead singer/guitarist, bass guitar/2nd guitar, drummer, and guy who plays violin, banjo, guitar, bass, theremin and musical saw. Totally great sound and live band. I went to see it with my future band members (friend T, and K) and we decided that I will be the multi-instrumentalist. T has a viola, which I hope to learn promptly (either that or I will rent/buy a cello!). We already have two accordions, keyboards that make helicopter sounds and samba beats, two guitars, two banana shakers and two harmonicas. I think we'll be making a trip to the hardware store for misc. percussion and saw parts. Anyway, I think being in a band will be a good way to de-institutionalize myself after I graduate. I've had all I can take of teaching millenials and being taught by overworked and jaded professors.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Things that make me weep
I'm sitting here at school, on my lunch break, listening to Vivaldi and reading some of Kate DiCamillo's online journal entries (there is a link to the right). Damn! Her entries are making me weep. And by weep I don't mean gushing heart-wrenching tears but enough moisture balling up at the ends of my eyelashes to make me want to dab my eyes politely with a lacy hankerchief.
So I've been thinking of other things that make me weep:
1. The opening credits and music from Anne of Green Gables
2. The opening credits of Disney's Beauty and the Beast
3. Vivaldi's Summer and Winter (this also makes me feel punk rock, if you know what I mean).
4. Cather's My Antonia
5. Gillian Welch's Orphan Girl
6. The ending sequence of American Beauty (I wailed, not wept, for 2 hours afterwards).
7. Cafe Latte's Raspberry Cream Torte or Grandma B's buttermilk chocolate sheet cake
8. Playing Katherine Hoover's Winter Spirits on flute
9. The choral version of Barber's Adagio done by the Dale Warland Singers
10.That one aria from Turandot I can't remember the name of but it is sung by a tenor.
11.Any opening or ending movie sequence with gorgeous music
12.Rachels' Music for Egon Schiele.
13.Greg Brown's Spring Wind
14.When the Mutts cartoon does its shelter stories
Sometimes when I'm singing in the car along with a song I'll choke up for no reason (or maybe there is a reason: a beautiful chord progression or lyric?) and won't be able to sing for awhile. Does this happen to you or am I a weirdo?
So I've been thinking of other things that make me weep:
1. The opening credits and music from Anne of Green Gables
2. The opening credits of Disney's Beauty and the Beast
3. Vivaldi's Summer and Winter (this also makes me feel punk rock, if you know what I mean).
4. Cather's My Antonia
5. Gillian Welch's Orphan Girl
6. The ending sequence of American Beauty (I wailed, not wept, for 2 hours afterwards).
7. Cafe Latte's Raspberry Cream Torte or Grandma B's buttermilk chocolate sheet cake
8. Playing Katherine Hoover's Winter Spirits on flute
9. The choral version of Barber's Adagio done by the Dale Warland Singers
10.That one aria from Turandot I can't remember the name of but it is sung by a tenor.
11.Any opening or ending movie sequence with gorgeous music
12.Rachels' Music for Egon Schiele.
13.Greg Brown's Spring Wind
14.When the Mutts cartoon does its shelter stories
Sometimes when I'm singing in the car along with a song I'll choke up for no reason (or maybe there is a reason: a beautiful chord progression or lyric?) and won't be able to sing for awhile. Does this happen to you or am I a weirdo?
Be-wigged Vivaldi Beauties
Boy, I'm glad I didn't send that email to my composition prof. After I wrote that I went downstairs and played some of my parlor music from the 20's on the upright piano ("I Would! If I Could! But I Can't! Why? Because I'm Married Now" is the actual title of the piece). From there I started messing around and came up with a beginning to my women's choir piece, which is based on the Fontbonne Pool at CSC. I'm hoping it could eventually be sung by the CSC choir in the actual pool. That's my dream. If you don't know about this obsession, ask me about it sometime.
Anyway, I've been into Baroque music lately because I've been discussing this period with my humanities students. I remember a Rick Steves episode where he goes to watch a concert of a period-costumed and be-wigged all female Vivaldi chamber orchestra. That's my dream! To play in that orchestra. But I have to learn how to play a string instrument--I'm thinking cello or viola because everyone plays violin. I also showed my class snippets from Monteverdi's Orfeo opera, and the music is really gorgeous for that time (1607!).
Also new: I discovered that a classmate of mine is fluent in Spanish--she studied abroad in high school--and wants to get together and practice her Spanish, so I think I might try and pick it up again (took 4 years in high school). She loaned me some books and DVDs so maybe I'll be writing my next post en Espanol.
Anyway, I've been into Baroque music lately because I've been discussing this period with my humanities students. I remember a Rick Steves episode where he goes to watch a concert of a period-costumed and be-wigged all female Vivaldi chamber orchestra. That's my dream! To play in that orchestra. But I have to learn how to play a string instrument--I'm thinking cello or viola because everyone plays violin. I also showed my class snippets from Monteverdi's Orfeo opera, and the music is really gorgeous for that time (1607!).
Also new: I discovered that a classmate of mine is fluent in Spanish--she studied abroad in high school--and wants to get together and practice her Spanish, so I think I might try and pick it up again (took 4 years in high school). She loaned me some books and DVDs so maybe I'll be writing my next post en Espanol.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Warning: Intensely Personal and Embarrassing Blog Entry
Can I get something off my chest (in other words, this entry will be good therapy for me, but boring for you)? Even if it's intensely personal and somewhat embarrassing?
All day, I've been crafting a letter in my head to my composition professor, which would explain why I've only composed 3 pieces since I've been in grad school (since January 2004). This was all sparked by two things: and impending composition lesson tomorrow in which I have nothing done (again), and, seeing how much my fellow students are composing in a composition seminar today.
Here's what I've got so far:
Dear Dr. ______,
I'm not sure why I haven't been setting time aside to work on my composition projects, but yet again I have nothing to show you for tomorrow. However, I have a couple theories, which might explain my behavior.
1. I need lots of physical and mental space to feel safe enough to create. As you know I have two large humanities classes to take care of, and every moment of my day is taken up with lesson planning, grading, maintaining the class website, and thinking about how to make my class better, how to make my students care, and what to do with students who turn in late papers and "forget" to do their presentations. In some ways I don't think it's quite fair to throw grad students into teaching when they have their own classes and grades and papers to think about, no teaching assistants to help with grading and photo-copying, and no guidance whatsoever on how to even teach material I don't know well to a large class of 50 non-music major freshmen. Besides this, I have a large orchestration project that's due on Nov. 15, a piano pedagogy project that's due on the 29th, a women's choir piece to write by Dec. 1, plus misc. minor things that still take time, such as working part time while attending school. As you can see, I have no mental space for the creation of musical works. My brain is all used up and I have trouble remembering which key opens my front door, what the copy code is at school, and where I put my chapstick. As far as physical space, I have a nice piano in the dining room, but there is no privacy there. It is just a few feet away from the television. That was the only place to put the piano--it is the only inside wall downstairs.
2. I don't compose as prolifically as my fellow grad students because I don't have the same strong music background as they do. Both of them have been composing and performing for a long time and both have undergraduate degrees in composition. My b.a. is in art education. What classes in my past life have prepared me to write abstract sounds down into a concrete form? The last theory and ear-training classes I had were in 1997. My friends already have craft. I am still at the first step and need to gear up to write something down. It's like I'm trying to write a novel in Russian when I only know three words in the language: cat, pencil, and battery. There's only so many variations on these three words. Also, I know my colleagues have as little time as I do (one of them has 3 kids! The other one has numerous performing and teaching gigs), but they can just sit down and spew out music in a few hours. I'm not to that point yet.
3. Do I really want to write music down? I think one of my problems is motivation. My primary musical interests lie in the education, therapy, and ethnomusicology realms. did I choose the wrong major? Aren't there enough contemporary art music composers out there? How much quasi-tonal "woo-woo, pluck-pluck" postmodernism can the American concert audience take? Should music even be written down anymore, now that we have highly advanced recording equipment? Besides, a score is not music--it is a picture of music. Real music exists in space. The pieces I would write (and spend hours on!) would only exist in space for a few minutes and then get dusty in some drawer or on a shelf in a forgotten section of the library. Does contemporary art music help anyone? Does anyone care?
4. If I really liked composing, wouldn't I just do it and stop whining about it? Some composer said on a blog I read recently: Self-discipline is a natural trait for composers because they want to spend as much time creating as possible. Or something like that--I don't have it quite right, but you get the idea. I'm afraid self-discipline has never been one of my strong suits, even though I enjoy creating in a language I'm familiar with. As a fourth grader it was so easy to sit on my bed and write short stories or make up fashion designs in my sketchbook. I never analyzed what I was doing--I just did it and it didn't seem like work at all. I was just playing. I like the playing around part of composition, but I don't like the more analytical, detailed work that goes into editing and refining. I loose interest by then. I am by nature what Barbara Sher calls a "scanner." So the question is, do I go against my own nature or try to shape it and change my habits?
--------
and so on.
Blah blah blah, I'm so whiny! But these are questions I struggle with everyday. I want to get out of school and get on with my life.
All day, I've been crafting a letter in my head to my composition professor, which would explain why I've only composed 3 pieces since I've been in grad school (since January 2004). This was all sparked by two things: and impending composition lesson tomorrow in which I have nothing done (again), and, seeing how much my fellow students are composing in a composition seminar today.
Here's what I've got so far:
Dear Dr. ______,
I'm not sure why I haven't been setting time aside to work on my composition projects, but yet again I have nothing to show you for tomorrow. However, I have a couple theories, which might explain my behavior.
1. I need lots of physical and mental space to feel safe enough to create. As you know I have two large humanities classes to take care of, and every moment of my day is taken up with lesson planning, grading, maintaining the class website, and thinking about how to make my class better, how to make my students care, and what to do with students who turn in late papers and "forget" to do their presentations. In some ways I don't think it's quite fair to throw grad students into teaching when they have their own classes and grades and papers to think about, no teaching assistants to help with grading and photo-copying, and no guidance whatsoever on how to even teach material I don't know well to a large class of 50 non-music major freshmen. Besides this, I have a large orchestration project that's due on Nov. 15, a piano pedagogy project that's due on the 29th, a women's choir piece to write by Dec. 1, plus misc. minor things that still take time, such as working part time while attending school. As you can see, I have no mental space for the creation of musical works. My brain is all used up and I have trouble remembering which key opens my front door, what the copy code is at school, and where I put my chapstick. As far as physical space, I have a nice piano in the dining room, but there is no privacy there. It is just a few feet away from the television. That was the only place to put the piano--it is the only inside wall downstairs.
2. I don't compose as prolifically as my fellow grad students because I don't have the same strong music background as they do. Both of them have been composing and performing for a long time and both have undergraduate degrees in composition. My b.a. is in art education. What classes in my past life have prepared me to write abstract sounds down into a concrete form? The last theory and ear-training classes I had were in 1997. My friends already have craft. I am still at the first step and need to gear up to write something down. It's like I'm trying to write a novel in Russian when I only know three words in the language: cat, pencil, and battery. There's only so many variations on these three words. Also, I know my colleagues have as little time as I do (one of them has 3 kids! The other one has numerous performing and teaching gigs), but they can just sit down and spew out music in a few hours. I'm not to that point yet.
3. Do I really want to write music down? I think one of my problems is motivation. My primary musical interests lie in the education, therapy, and ethnomusicology realms. did I choose the wrong major? Aren't there enough contemporary art music composers out there? How much quasi-tonal "woo-woo, pluck-pluck" postmodernism can the American concert audience take? Should music even be written down anymore, now that we have highly advanced recording equipment? Besides, a score is not music--it is a picture of music. Real music exists in space. The pieces I would write (and spend hours on!) would only exist in space for a few minutes and then get dusty in some drawer or on a shelf in a forgotten section of the library. Does contemporary art music help anyone? Does anyone care?
4. If I really liked composing, wouldn't I just do it and stop whining about it? Some composer said on a blog I read recently: Self-discipline is a natural trait for composers because they want to spend as much time creating as possible. Or something like that--I don't have it quite right, but you get the idea. I'm afraid self-discipline has never been one of my strong suits, even though I enjoy creating in a language I'm familiar with. As a fourth grader it was so easy to sit on my bed and write short stories or make up fashion designs in my sketchbook. I never analyzed what I was doing--I just did it and it didn't seem like work at all. I was just playing. I like the playing around part of composition, but I don't like the more analytical, detailed work that goes into editing and refining. I loose interest by then. I am by nature what Barbara Sher calls a "scanner." So the question is, do I go against my own nature or try to shape it and change my habits?
--------
and so on.
Blah blah blah, I'm so whiny! But these are questions I struggle with everyday. I want to get out of school and get on with my life.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Too much, too little, too late (hey, that's a 70's era Johnny Mathis song!)
I totally agree with Gintastic on the warm fuzzies one gets with this sisterhood of interbloguality. It's a fun experiment. If I can stick with this for a month, they say it takes 21 days to change a habit, so maybe the writing habit will stay with me....
Anyway, can't blog too much right now. I just got home from a (pathetic) composer's concert (we only had 3 pieces on it) and now I have to preview some Baroque operas to pick out some clips to show my students. I'll also be showing a clip from "Farinelli," that movie about a castrato. Hopefully they'll find these somewhat interesting, although sometimes I feel I have to be as entertaining as Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society to keep them from falling asleep or playing solitaire on their laptops. Seriously! They expect so much out of me and I can't give it too them. I'm about ready to throw in the towel and just say, you know what? We're just going to watch Amadeus and Immortal Beloved and Impromptu and eat popcorn for class. None of this trying to care if they learn about classical music crap. They're all visual learners these days anyway, right? Is there a Mozart video game out there? Gee, look at me, I'm already jaded and I'm not even a real professor! Ha!
On a more upbeat note, Sammy Davis Jr. was on Charlie's Angles tonight and played two characters, one of which owned a chain of liquor stores and dressed like a pimp with very poor fashion sense (a long long blue plaid suit jacket with matching pants and red shoes). I only caught the last 30 minutes or so but that sure made my night. By the way, I've been noticing strange parallels between Nancy Drew and Charlie's Angels. I think this might be another topic for another blog...
Anyway, can't blog too much right now. I just got home from a (pathetic) composer's concert (we only had 3 pieces on it) and now I have to preview some Baroque operas to pick out some clips to show my students. I'll also be showing a clip from "Farinelli," that movie about a castrato. Hopefully they'll find these somewhat interesting, although sometimes I feel I have to be as entertaining as Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society to keep them from falling asleep or playing solitaire on their laptops. Seriously! They expect so much out of me and I can't give it too them. I'm about ready to throw in the towel and just say, you know what? We're just going to watch Amadeus and Immortal Beloved and Impromptu and eat popcorn for class. None of this trying to care if they learn about classical music crap. They're all visual learners these days anyway, right? Is there a Mozart video game out there? Gee, look at me, I'm already jaded and I'm not even a real professor! Ha!
On a more upbeat note, Sammy Davis Jr. was on Charlie's Angles tonight and played two characters, one of which owned a chain of liquor stores and dressed like a pimp with very poor fashion sense (a long long blue plaid suit jacket with matching pants and red shoes). I only caught the last 30 minutes or so but that sure made my night. By the way, I've been noticing strange parallels between Nancy Drew and Charlie's Angels. I think this might be another topic for another blog...
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